By Ferd Lewis
Advertiser Columnist

These days the wide receiver often wears a perpetual scowl. The shooting guard likely a don't-dare-mess-with-me glower. The outfielder sometimes a sneer.

And, we're not even talking about Randy Moss, Latrell Sprewell or Barry Bonds.

How often do we see professional athletes going about their work with all the joy of a toxic waste disposal worker?

And then there is Shigeki Maruyama, the golfer with the toothpaste commercial smile, who is so special, so refreshing. He performs with a genuine delight we'd all like to see, or, better yet, feel.

And it isn't just because he is leading the Sony Open in Hawai'i by a stroke heading into today's final round. His 18-hole smile was there well before the hole-in-one from 202 yards on the fourth hole yesterday put him on the way to a 2-under-par 68 and three-day total of 200. And, it was there long after a $50,000 check was presented on his behalf to the Wai'anae Comprehensive Health Center.

Maruyama's smile is more than leaderboard-deep. It finds its inspiration from beyond his wallet. It is a philosophy he adopted as a youngster after watching Tom Watson, in winning the 1981 Masters, smiling and gesturing to the crowd, and took that to heart. "Golf is my job and my hobby and I love them both," Maruyama said. "Why shouldn't I be happy?"

Why, indeed. He is blessed to be able to do what he likes and do it well before a growing gallery. All week his show has been on display at Waialae Country Club where, in the absence of Michelle Wie, fans have taken to the 5-foot-7 golfer from Japan with the artist's pallet wardrobe and expressive nature.

He feigns a headache at receiving bad news and waves his cap with a matador's flair on rolling in a birdie putt. His only regret yesterday: Not putting on a better show for the ESPN cameras after his hole-in-one dropped because he found it hard to believe the shot went in.

Even Brett Quigley, the man he overtook yesterday to regain the tournament lead, is looking forward to their pairing today. "That's the great thing about Shigeki, he's always smiling," Quigley said. "It is just a matter of how big his smile is. That will be fun (today)."

Maruyama has been "fun" for more than his 12 years of playing professionally. "Nobody who has ever played golf as a professional has smiled as much as Shigeki," Byron Nelson observed a long time ago.

"I can be mad, too," Maruyama said. "But I like to be happy as much as I can."

Today, Maruyama could really have something to grin about. He was a 14-year-old student in 1983 when countryman Isao Aoki dropped in a one-bouncer for eagle on the final hole to beat Jack Renner and win the United Airlines Hawaiian Open. He remembers watching it on television and looking at the pictures and, someday, hoping such a feat might be his.

No golfer from Japan has won at Waialae — either in the Hawaiian Open or its successor, the Sony Open — since.

Yesterday, Aoki, the mere mention of the name drawing a reverent bow from Maruyama, took in play at Waialae.

Maruyama even manages a smile when it comes to U.S. television announcers who routinely and, unapologetically, continue to mispronounce his family name calling him "Marry-yama" and "Morey-yama."

Come today, they still might not get his name right but you will have no problem knowing who Maruyama is.

He'll probably be the guy out there with the fairway-long smile.

Reach Ferd Lewis at flewis@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8044