You Don't Mess Around With Kim

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Big kicks come in small packages.

Submitted: August 04, 2015

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Submitted: August 04, 2015

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I should stop writing golf articles for Sports Illustrated.  The money is good but it’s not worth the wear and tear.

When Paul told me he wanted an interview with LPGA rookie sensation Sei-Young Kim, I thought, piece of cake.  No sleeping in a tent in the Australian desert while covering the World Extreme Golf Championship.  No sideways freezing rain blowing up my nose at the Siberian Open.  No getting in the middle of a civil war covering some podunk tournament in a third world country.

Turns out Sei-Young is the leading candidate for rookie of the year on the LPGA tour.  She’s won twice, and a number of her spectacular shots are lighting up YouTube.

It didn’t matter to me that Sei-Young had been saying no to interview requests all season long.  Her management made it clear the shy, 22 year old Korean would not grant any, outside of the weekly LPGA sessions, until after the season. 

All I needed to do was a bit of casual stalking, and lay out some of the Wlodarski charm when the opportunity presented.  I was drawing strength from the fact that, in earlier days, I had convinced more than one woman to go on a date with me.  How hard can it be to get an interview with a Korean lady?

To top it off, SI was willing to bankroll my expenses.  And send me all the way to Scotland to interview her at the Women’s British Open.  I was blinded by the thought of week at the Trump Turnberry resort on an expense account.  Finger sandwiches and pastries at the Tappie Toorie restaurant.  A pint or six at the Grand Tea Lounge & Bar. 

I don’t care what you think of Donald Trump.  Dude knows how to run a hotel.  Good thing I couldn’t afford the rates on my own.  I gained five pounds while I was there.

The Scottish “summer” was brutal as usual.  I saw zebra striped earmuffs, polka dot earmuffs, I didn’t know there were so many kinds.  Golf is impossibly difficult for most of us.  Throw rain, wind, and temperatures in the 50s on top of a devilish golf course, and you’ll see the best golfers in the world brought to their knees.

But I wasn’t getting paid to watch golf.  I needed to figure out how to get Ms. Kim to let me ask her a bunch of questions.  And I was fresh out of ideas, so I decided to take the direct approach.  I would just follow her around and pester her until she relented.  Or until I got tossed out by security.

Like many of the golfers, she was staying at the hotel on the course.  That evening, the plan was wait in the lobby.  Everyone eats, when she heads to a restaurant, I commence stalking.  And hope I come up with some slick talking.  I’d memorized a few Korean phrases.  If that didn’t work, goodbye SI expense account.

So there I was in the lobby at the hotel, waiting.  In the event I was going to be following her into the brisk weather, I was wearing my favorite black aviator jacket and the only wool cap I could find when I packed.  My Oakland Raiders cap.  I must have looked like Eminem’s dad.  But all that black was what ultimately got me the interview.

As Sei-Young and her caddie emerged from the elevator, I heard him say “1906 is down that hallway.”  Good.  They were going to eat at one of the restaurants in the resort complex.  No fooling around tailing them in a taxi.

I followed at a distance and handed the maître d’ a tip sufficient to get me the closest table to my target.  Just as I turned to follow the hostess, I noticed that Mr. Trump and his entourage were occupying a number of tables to my right.  And that was when shit got weird.

A few minutes later I would realize I was in the middle of a failed kidnapping attempt on The Donald.  While it was happening, I had no idea what was happening.

The first thing that happened was my head exploded and everything went white, then black.  That is what happens when five armed men rush into a restaurant and stomp over anyone in their way. 

A few seconds later, I woke up and realized I was on the floor at the 1906 Restaurant at Trump Turnberry.  I stood, and turned toward the bizarre sounds I was hearing. 

To see the men, in all black clothing and masks, getting their asses handed to them by something small and moving too fast to see well.  Sei-Young.  I knew she had a black belt in Taekwondo.  Her father was a grand master and she grew up in his dojo.  I simply had no idea what she was capable of.  She was Bruce Lee in fast motion.  With a ponytail.  Bodies and weapons were flying in all directions.

That was when my choice of attire came into question.  To a flying, spinning Korean maniac, my dark pants, black jacket, and Oakland Raiders cap made me look suspiciously like a kidnapper.  I was her sixth victim that evening, I received a vicious kick to the chest and went flying to the floor of the 1906 Restaurant.  For the second time in less than a minute.

Things got blurry after that.  I spent a lot of time talking to Trump Security, eventually they realized I was not one of the kidnappers.  Sei-Young helped out, she told them, “No, he’s just the creepy journalist that has been stalking me this week.”

I knew I had her right where I wanted her.  I pulled up my shirt and showed her the bruise forming on my chest.  The one shaped like her shoe.  I said, “I’ll tell you what.  Give me an interview, and I’ll stay out of kicking range from now on.”

So that is how I got my Sei-Young Kim interview.  And enough of a paycheck to pay off the back rent.  Maybe I’ll volunteer to cover the Arctic Open in Iceland.  The cool weather will help reduce the swelling.

OK, enough of the usual lies.  As far as I know, Sei-Young Kim has never turned down an interview request.  Or foiled any kidnapping plots.  I made up about 99.99% of the story.  And, she didn’t even play well at Turnberry, she missed the cut. 

But she is a 3rd degree black belt in Taekwondo.  If you want to see her do a jumping axe kick, here ya go:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25JHJvplShw


© Copyright 2017 Serge Wlodarski. All rights reserved.

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