A brush with greatness

Some things take me by surprise. Mostly, because I'm cynical by nature and partly because I'm just surprised.

As faithful readers know, I'm a fan of LPGA golfer Paula Creamer. Following golf requires that one pick a "favorite" and when I attend an event or watch on television, I like to have someone to root for. Rooting for Paula is easy because she embodies everything that I imagine athletes to be: Appreciative of her fans, friendly, easy to like and generally a good person. Two years ago, upon meeting her mother on the course at Bulle Rock, I told her that Paula was "my favorite professional athlete." What happened today cemented that belief.

As usual, I spent the day walking the course with her group, which included Nichole Castrale and Kristy McPherson. Today, I went to the LPGA Championship garbed in a custom-made Paula Creamer T-shirt (above) and evidently, was the envy of my fellow Creamer followers. To the extent that a local newspaper photographer asked for my name and home town, because she took a photo of the back of my shirt that may or may not appear in the local Havre de Grace newspaper on Friday morning. I'll let you know.

Anyway, I stalked the 6,350 yard course step by step with Paula. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable, more so by some illness than the 2-over par she would shoot. After the round, a small group gathered at the scoring tent at the 18th green where the players sign autographs for their adoring fans. Paula signed a ball and hat for me last year, so I wasn't all that anxious to bother her, but the group wasn't very large, and I had a hand full of souvenir Bulle Rock balls that I bought at the gift shop. Travelling light.

As I handed her one, she sadly announced, "Oh, I'm sorry, I can't sign that." She has a deal with Precept, and the Bulle Rock balls are made by Pinnacle, so it's technically a breach of her contract.

I said, "I'm sorry," and she asked if I "had anything else I could sign."

"No, I don't, I'm sorry." There were a lot of sorry's going on. Meanwhile, I think she knew I was the guy in the "1 CREAMER" shirt, so maybe I had that going for me?

She replied, "I'll find my caddy and I'll get you a ball."

Dumbfounded, I said, "OK" and stood there while she signed for the rest of the people who were waiting behind me. I was a little (a lot) confused, because I couldn't imagine that she would go out of her way to fetch a ball from her caddy to sign for me, but that's Paula.

When she finished with the others, she asked me to follow her to the other end of the practice green where her bag was with the balls. I double-timed it over there, and she pulled a "game ball" out of her bag and signed it for me (pictured below). I thanked her and asked if she "saw the shirt." She said, "Yes, I did" (how could she miss it?) and threw me a smile and the thumbs-up sign.

The black line is where the players mark the balls to line up their putts. The Pink Panther logo is her nickname, and Precept makes the balls especially for her, which is why it's so special to me.

The thing that made it so dramatic was that she was ill from some sort of virus and had barely a speaking voice, but found the time to sign a special ball for a fan and (in my opinion) go out of her way to make me happy. It's why I'm a fan (for life) of hers and why I go to LPGA tournaments. It's not the type of thing you'd hear a Major League baseball player do, or for that matter, most other LPGA players.

Paula is the number 3 player on the tour, but as far as I'm concerned, she's number one, and always will be.