An offer Gulbis could refuse

The young golfer turned down another marriage proposal from the 'best-looking sportswriter.'
By JOE SCALZO
VINDICATOR SPORTS STAFF
VIENNA -- A few minutes before I asked Natalie Gulbis to marry me (again) I was sitting next to her dad, John, near the driving range at Squaw Creek Country Club, asking about my chances.
"Well, there's always a chance," he said. "Like Jim Carrey said, it's like one in a million."
He was referring to a scene from "Dumb and Dumber," although technically, Jim Carrey never said that. Carrey's character, Lloyd Christmas, asks Mary Swanson (played by Lauren Holly) about the chances of a guy like him hooking up with a girl like her.
"Not good," she says.
"Not good like one in a hundred?" he says.
"I'd say more like one in a million," she says.
And Carrey pauses, smiles and says: "So you're telling me there's a chance?"
I didn't correct John, of course. "Never correct the father of the LPGA golfer you want to marry," is my sportswriting motto.
A few seconds later, John walked over to his daughter and said, "This guy here plans to ask you to marry him."
They talked for a few seconds, then he looked over at me and said, "She said you have no chance."
"Not even one in a million," she said with a laugh.
Ouch. OK, I admit things aren't starting well.
The pursuit
First, a little background. Last June, on a whim, I decided to ask Natalie to marry me, figuring that if she said no, I would have a pretty good story. And if she said yes, I would have a pretty good life.
I got a pretty good story.
Natalie, 21, is not the most famous (that's Annika Sorenstam), most talented (probably Sorenstam again) or most promising (Michelle Wie) player on the LPGA Tour.
She is, however, the prettiest. And she's a pretty darn good golfer. She'll be a real catch for someone.
She at least needed to hear me out.
Now I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a good golfer. I'm not even an awful golfer. You know the worst golfer in the world? I carry his clubs. So that's a big strike against me.
What can I offer? A four-figure salary, a 1994 Honda Civic with 180,000 miles on it and the ability to play six chords on the guitar. But while I might not be the best-looking guy at the tournament, I am the best-looking sportswriter. (Just kidding. It's entirely possible that I am the best-looking guy at the tournament.)
"OK," I said. "But this story isn't just about me proposing..."
"Again," she interrupted.
"Right, again," I said. "It's not just about that. But since you mentioned it, has anything changed over the last year?"
"Well, I had a four-hour drive [from the Canadian Open] to think about it," she said. "And it's still no."
"Is it because I'm wearing Nikes?" I asked. (Natalie represents Adidas.)
"No," she said. "But that'll do."
Ouch. Again.
Support system
John Gulbis is an ex-policeman who had to retire from the force with a bad knee and now travels around to different tournaments with Natalie.
He's a golfer who taught her how to play while growing up in Citrus Heights, Calif., which is near Sacramento. He and Natalie's mom still live there. Natalie, who went to college at Arizona State (where she wore Nikes, I might add) now lives in Las Vegas. She moved there to be close to her golf instructor. And for the lower taxes.
John loves Harleys (he was wearing a Harley hat on Tuesday) and he looks the part. He's tall, he's got a long beard and, to be honest, he's a little intimidating. He worked the street for 16 years as a policeman and could probably crush me in a second.
"In a half-second," he said.
Right. Anyway, he recognized his daughter's talent growing up (she was also a gymnast) and he used to travel with her to junior tournaments across the country. Natalie's mom still works full-time, which is why she was not in Vienna on Tuesday, but she manages to find time to travel with her daughter to tournaments in Europe, Japan and Korea.
"I like pretty much everything about it," John said of the life. "I love going to different courses. And we really like it here. We like the town, we like the people and we like the course."
First win
Natalie is still looking for her first tour win. Her best finish this year was a tie for seventh at the Chick-Fil-A Charity Championship. She tied her career-best finish at the Giant Eagle LPGA Classic two years ago when she finished tied for fifth.
With the top 17 money winners not at this year's tournament, could this be the week she breaks through?
"She's had about a dozen chances in the last three years," he said. "It's possible."
A few minutes later, I was standing on the first tee next to Natalie and her chain-smoking caddie, Greg Sheridan. Her dad had left.
"What did you ask my dad?" Natalie asked. "I might have to censor some answers."
"Nothing controversial," I said.
"You didn't ask him about who I'm dating, did you?" she said. "Because sometimes that gets printed."
I didn't ask. I don't want to know.
Fame and fortune
Natalie's golf game is still improving, but she doesn't exactly have to rely on her winnings to survive. In addition to the Adidas contract, she also represents Upper Deck trading cards, Amstel Light, Genisoy, Maxfli, Metrx and TaylorMade. She has her own web site (www.nataliegulbis.com), her own character on Tiger Woods' video game and her own calendar, which was recently banned by the USGA.
"They said it was too provocative," she said. "But it's selling well."
Really well, in fact. It's even outselling the Playboy calendars, she said. (For the record, the calendar is pretty tame. If it were a movie, it wouldn't even be rated PG-13.)
She's also throwing out the first pitch at Thursday's Scrappers game and she's already sang "Take me out to the ball game" at a Cubs game.
As we reached the second hole, she's stopped by a man in a motorized wheelchair, who wants to trade her a pin for an autographed card. She can't decide between the green or pink pin. She's leaning toward the pink.
"This is my husband-to-be," she tells him, gesturing to me. "Let's see what he thinks."
"The pink one," I said.
"Let's hope it's not his favorite color," she said.
It's not. My favorite color is navy blue.
The end of the road
As we near the second green, she tells me that she had no idea the calendar would be so controversial. She even got ripped by a crotchety old columnist in Sacramento although most reporters have gone pretty easy on her.
Right before I leave, the topic turns to this year's tournament. Rumor has it that this will be the last year here.
She hopes not.
"I hope it comes back," she said. "Maybe it's my naive thinking, but I really hope it does. There's so much tradition here. There's great fans and I love this course. It's such a classic course and it suits my game."
I tell her I don't think it's coming back.
"Well, that would be too bad," she said.
By now, I figure I've overstayed my welcome. Her caddie has already warned me that if he sees me here again today, "you've got a three-wood coming at your head."
He was kidding, I think.
I told her that if she changes her mind about the marriage proposal, to let me know. She laughed. It doesn't sound like she will.
But it brings up an interesting question: How did I feel to get turned down two years in a row?
Well, I'll be honest, I felt dumb.
But you know what? If I hadn't asked, I'd have felt even dumber.
scalzo@vindy.com