So, it's little surprise that when 15-year-old U.S. Open qualifier Tadd Fujikawa of Honolulu was asked — almost as a joke — who the best teenage golfer in Hawaii is these days, he didn't give an inch.

"Boys or girls?" was his response.

Take nothing away from Michelle Wie, that "other" Hawaii teenager with the perfect swing and the huge potential. But when it comes to making the most out of what God has given you, Fujikawa, at 5-foot-1, 135 pounds, would certainly win the award as best young player on the islands.

"When he was born," said his grandfather, Danny, holding his hand open, "I could fit him in my palm."

He was born three-and-a-half months early, weighing 1 pound, 15 ounces, given a 50-50 chance to live and even less of a shot at living anything resembling a "normal" life.

"They said he'd probably have some mental disability and maybe some other problems," said his mother, Lori.

Tadd defied those odds and has been doing that ever since — in judo, golf, life. When they tee it up for the first round Thursday at Winged Foot, he will be the youngest player to compete in a U.S. Open since 1941.

"It's definitely exciting," said Tadd, who recently completed ninth grade at Moanalua High. "Who wouldn't be excited? It's the Open. It doesn't matter what age you are — 15, 20, 50."

That he is here and Wie is not is the result of a couple of quirks in scheduling, some strange USGA policy and, of course, a little bit of luck.

Wie and Fujikawa both made it through regional qualifying in Hawaii. Wie got the first of three spots into the sectionals. Fujikawa got the last one, snaking in a 65-foot putt on the last hole of a three-way playoff.

"That was kind of fun, I guess," he said.

With Wie scheduled to play in last week's LPGA Championship in Maryland, however, she decided to play her sectional at Canoe Brook in New Jersey, a site laden with PGA Tour players. There were 18 spots available for 153 players there. Wie missed the mark by five strokes.

Had she stayed home and tried to qualify at Poipu Bay in Hawaii, where only 10 players were entered, she would have been the favorite to earn that section's only spot. Instead, it went to Fujikawa.

"We're looking into it," USGA executive director David Fay said when asked if the association would continue to offer one spot from such a small region.

Fujikawa makes no apologies.

"I don't know if I was really surprised, but I think that it would have been nice to kind of get a second chance to compete with her," Fujikawa said. "Unfortunately she didn't qualify, but she did well in this past tournament, the LPGA tournament, and I wish her the best of luck."

Two grades behind Wie, Fujikawa said he doesn't know her, doesn't run in the same golf circles as she does. He wishes her well, in large part because they both live in Hawaii and people there like to see each other succeed.

"A lot of people in Hawaii have benefited from the success she's had," Lori Fujikawa said. "I think she's done a lot of good for golf in Hawaii."

Maybe Tadd will, too.

He hits the ball a ton, about 280-285 yards off the tee with a swing he clearly doesn't unfurl the entire way. In fact, he barely appears to bring the club to parallel on the backswing, not beyond, the way the biggest hitters do.

"I'd spray it a little bit" if he swung harder, Tadd said. "So, I just try to keep it in the fairway."

When he was taken home from the hospital as a baby, he went with an ostomy bag implanted in his stomach to substitute for the digestive organs that hadn't fully developed. It was one of a dozen or more major issues that a baby so premature must overcome.

Fifteen years later, the subject of Tadd's premature birth doesn't dominate the family conversation. Nor should it.

"It's not like we take his life for granted," his mother said. "But he's out there, he's fine. We've always been a little cautious because of his size, but mostly we just go with the flow."

With the aw-shucks modesty of a teenager, Tadd admits that, "Yeah, I mean, I think that I am special, not only in golf but, just, I guess, just surviving with everything that I've been through."

His first success in sports came in judo, which he started when he was 4. It was there that he learned how to pack quite a punch. Then came golf. His family doesn't play much. Don, his grandpa, sheepishly admits he's "a 90-95" shooter, not good enough to play with the kid anymore.

"We're all hackers," said Lori, who often caddies for Tadd when he plays tournaments at home.

Asked to explain her son's amazing ability to strike a golf ball, she said simply, "he practices a lot. He eats and sleeps golf."

Now, he's doing it at the U.S. Open.

Next on Tadd's list of long-term goals are to earn a college scholarship and someday play on the PGA Tour. In the meantime, winning the U.S. Amateur would earn him a spot in the Masters.

"That's one of his big goals," his grandfather said. "Getting here was another."

Of course, quite often many of those who go through qualifying to make the U.S. Open are around for only two days. Then comes the cut, when Tiger, Phil, Ernie Els and the rest normally take the spotlight away from the human-interest stories.

Tadd, not surprisingly, would like to be different.