Sunday, 25 August 2013

Meet Isabel, golf's new star

My granddaughter Isabel, who is going on 6 months, will do more for the human race than Mother Teresa and Billie Holiday combined. Why not? She's got some of my genes, and there's never been a plan like this:

Mickey Wright has agreed to teach the infant the swing-Mickey's swing. We'll keep the child down in the old family room. It's best that Isabel see nobody except me and Mickey-until she's got the swing down cold.

After Mickey leaves, Nancy Lopez will move in. What she'll do is teach putting-the putting stroke Nancy had 20 years ago. And then comes Karrie Webb, the first woman I've ever seen who hits knockdown wedges and makes the ball dance.

For the mental part, Isabel's coaches will be Anna Freud-if she's still alive-and Margaret Thatcher.
For the last piece of the package, I counted on securing for Isabel the twinkle in Hollis Stacy's eyes. But Hollis, who can be tough on these matters, says she wants 3 percent of the gross. To me, 3 percent seems awfully high for a twinkle. I'll bet we can get one of Laura Baugh's dimples for 2 percent. I asked Helen Alfredsson for her hair, but she just cursed in Swedish.

What do I care? This little lady will make the world forget Joan of Arc and Roseanne.

I've already talked to Nike. Phil Knight very much wants a diaper deal with that swoosh thing right across the front. I threw out $10 million to him, but he said that's way too much if the baby happens to toilet train early. I argued that with a baby in a swooshed diaper, that tired and corny Nike phrase "Just do it" will take on a whole new meaning and come back to life. I informed him it's no sweat, Isabel is going to be bigger than Madame Curie and Oprah rolled together. But he wouldn't budge off his number of $5 million.

So I took on Michael Ovitz to represent us. So far he's made just the one commitment. There will be a book to come out to celebrate her third birthday-My Life So Far-as told to Danielle Steele and Lady Antonia Fraser.

He asked if she's ready to do lunch with the producer of "Seinfeld," who wants her to appear as a baby who is left outside Jerry's apartment in a basket with a 60-degree wedge. Why not? She's predestined to make people forget Shirley Temple and Golda Meir.

Ovitz did say he's not absolutely in love with "Isabel" as a marketable name with big-time resonance. He could be right. I just might have her name changed to "Bubbles" in honor of Bubbles Castellano-a guy from Brooklyn who just about saved my life by volunteering to do my weekend KP back when I was occupying Germany and had a weekend pass to Hamburg.

I almost forgot about a lawyer. We need a perfect lawyer. It'll be one of those two lady golfers from the Supreme Court-Sandra Day O'Connor or Ruth Bader Ginsburg. The only thing that could be tough about pulling this off is prying the kid loose from her parents. They are both tough Chicago lawyers who couldn't care less about golf. They are baseball wackos, obsessed with the White Sox. Maybe they would be willing to trade Isabel for a ball signed by Albert Belle.

Once we cut a deal with the parents, we're off to Florida. I think we'll buy Fisher Island, with what we save by beating state income tax.

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