Golf: A week in the life of Steve Williams

Forget the mighty Tall Blacks, or the price of an All Black jersey. The biggest talking point in New Zealand sport this week has been Steve "Stevie" Williams, a golf caddy with a knack for a sound bite. HAYDEN MEIKLE imagines what a week in the life of Williams could be like.

Monday: Roll out of bed at 10am after a hard night celebrating my victory at Bridgestone. Check out my biceps in the mirror for a couple of minutes while I listen to a motivational tape featuring my own voice chanting "You're the best, Stevie" over and over.

Cornflakes for brekkie and I splutter when I read that some clown has referred to Richie McCaw as New Zealand's greatest sportsman. What about me? What about Stevie? I'm THE GREATEST SPORTSMAN IN THE WORLD.

Tuesday: Change my Wikipedia entry to say I can count 12,885 days of my life that are better than the days I won majors with Tiger.

Go to my nephew's school sports day. He won the 100m and the 200m. I accept the trophy and let the kids give me a standing ovation.

Then it's off to Wal-Mart, where I find a new copy of Rocky. Mine has worn out after being played 217 times this year.

Wednesday: It's a very exciting day for me. In fact, it's THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE. My autobiography is being launched. It's called I, Stevie: The Greatest Caddy Who Ever Played and every word is written by me. The only problem is I think the publisher, Ego Books, must have put the wrong launch date out there, because I end up sitting at a table on my own for two hours. Still, gives me plenty of time to visualise winning yet another major this week.

Check my bank account and almost choke. Where are my winnings from Bridgestone? I text the Aussie kid but there's no response. Network must be down.

Thursday: Come on, Stevie! I'm leading the PGA Championship by two shots after the first round. At this rate, this is going to be THE GREATEST FOUR DAYS OF MY LIFE.

Phil Mickelson, that [beep], is tied for second. That second-rate player I made look like a champion for 10 years shot aa 77. Now that's what you call karma, Stevie style.

Relax at the hotel with a six-pack of Red Bull and re-read my autobiography. Give Ted a call. Tell him I can't make it home for the All Blacks' opening World Cup game and present the jerseys like I suggested. Promise him I'll send over a few of my clubs for the boys, and a special pre-game motivational tape.

Friday: You [beeping] [beeps]! Two [beeping] photographers click away while I am putting the driver back in my bag. Don't they know any [beeping] golf [beeping] etiquette? You never click during a caddy's back-in-bag swing! It is THE ANGRIEST I'VE EVER BEEN IN MY LIFE. Even smashing their expensive cameras against the nearest tree doesn't cheer me up much.

Saturday: Yeahhhh! Back in the PGA lead after my brilliant decision to go over the bunker on the 17th. Fist-pump, fist-pump, fist-pump, yeeahhhh.

After I sign my scorecard, I jump in my new Hummer and race to the local mall, where my video game - Stevie Williams PGA Tour 2012 - is being launched. I'm on the cover, in classic Stevie fist-pump mode. And the game allows you to be me, the prince of caddies, directing a series of faceless, nameless golfers.

Sunday: Fist-pump, chest-bump, finely-sculpted-pectorals-thump yeeahhh! I've won the PGA Championship by four strokes. This has been THE GREATEST YEAR OF MY LIFE.

[Beep] you, Tiger. [Beep] you, Phil Mickelson. And [beep] all you [beeping] critics who think a caddy should shut the [beep] up.

This is my time! I am Stevie!