When 16-year-old Tadd Fujikawa arrives for his first Sony Open in Hawai'i on Thursday, it's a safe bet that he'll be flashing that guileless, spring-loaded smile of his up and down the fairway. After all, life is pretty sweet when you're the lone amateur qualifier at the prestigious professional golf event.

And it's almost a sure thing that his voice will hop-skip an octave every time he responds to one of the swelling number of well-wishers following his every move. As Lori and Derrick Fujikawa taught their one and only child, warmth and humility are their own rewards.

And it's a stone-cold certainty that if things just don't work out at the Waialae Country Club, if Tadd isn't one of the 70 golfers to advance from the field of 144 on Friday, the Moanalua High School sophomore — who charmed the U.S. Open gallery last year with his easy demeanor and precocious cool — will be one seriously teed-off kid.

Mad as a wet cat.

Steamed like a 5-foot-1 manapua.

For it is a little-known fact that behind that quick smile, beneath the flawlessly serene exterior, stomps the heavy feet of a big-time sore loser.

"I'd consider that a factor," Fujikawa says, laughing. "I have high expectations for myself. If I don't reach my goal, I will not be very happy. I don't say it, but I really get angry when I don't do well."

And in that, Fujikawa, who'd rather take a 9-iron to the teeth than bogey a final hole, shares something vitally important with great athletes of every sport: He hates losing. Hates it with a deep and abiding passion. Would sooner chew a three-pack of Calloways than hit into a trap.

"He's determined," Derrick Fujikawa says, "and relentless. Nothing has been given to him, and he gets mad when he plays junk."

WIRE-TO-WIRE WIN

The reason this is a secret, of course, is that Fujikawa has had scarce occasion to feel anything but giddy in the past few months.

In October, he went wire-to-wire to win the Turtle Bay Amateur Championship. A week later he rallied from five back to beat Kevin Shimomura at the O'ahu Country Club Invitational.

Last month, he shot a day's best 5-under-par 67 to earn his spot in the Sony Open.

Even back in July, when he shot a second-round 77 and missed the cut at the U.S. Open, Fujikawa made a name for himself by becoming the youngest player to participate in the storied competition. His departure left a wake of some 300 new admirers (some chanting "Michelle who?" in reference to much-hyped fellow Hawai'i-born prodigy Michelle Wie) to find another object of affection.

In fact, comparisons to the $10 million girl have trailed Fujikawa through each springy step of his breakout year. Is he better? When will he turn pro? Can he get as many endorsements?

Taking a cue from his father, Fujikawa is both complimentary of his foot-taller counterpart and unperturbed by the weight of the reflected scrutiny.

"The men's and women's games are really different," he says, smiling again. End of story.

Beginning of story: If Fujikawa succeeds in his goal of making the cut this week, he just may become the most famous preemie in Hawai'i. Born three months premature, Fujikawa weighed just 1 pound, 15 ounces at birth and spent the first three months of his life in the hospital. The family's medical bills topped a half-million dollars, most of it, thankfully, covered by insurance.

Fujikawa was a fighter, to be sure, but a fighter without discipline is a chop in the sand. Fujikawa would learn self-control and poise and humility early at the feet of his father Derrick and Derrick's father, Daniel, founder of the Salt Lake Judo Club.

"He learned how to control himself at a young age," Derrick Fujikawa says. "Judo gave him a mental edge. In golf, the opposition is yourself, and if you show emotion, it snowballs."

EXCELLED AT JUDO

Despite his compact physique, Fujikawa excelled at judo and won numerous competitions before his attentions turned entirely to his other passion: golf.

Fujikawa had accompanied his parents, both recreational golfers, to the links and was hitting balls while still a toddler. For play, he practiced his stroke against a net his parents set up in the back yard. His mother's cousin gave him his first serious lessons, and his education continued with coach Kevin Ralbovsky and other veteran golfers.

As his skills developed, so did his drive to be the best. As Lori describes it, Fujikawa "eats and sleeps golf."

It's a simple life. Over the holidays, Fujikawa spent his mornings watching the Golf Channel, his afternoons at the golf course with mother/driver/best friend Lori at his side, and nights putting inside the house, reading golf books and watching more golf TV.

Obsessed?

Obsessed is such a strong word.

"I just really enjoy golf," Fujikawa says. "I think you have to really enjoy it to be able to practice all the time."

PARENTS SACRIFICE

Fujikawa's four-hour practices every day aren't cheap, even with help via a PGA sponsorship program, and his parents have curtailed their own forays onto the greens.

"It's OK," Derrick Fujikawa says. "I'm just a hacker."

Lori Fujikawa said her son's personality on the greens is much the same as it is everywhere else, the same affability, same sense of calm and contentment.

"He's very caring, very helpful," she says. "He's 15 (he turned 16 yesterday), but he'll still come up and hug me and say 'I love you.' He doesn't take anything for granted. He'll thank me for cooking dinner."

Still, even his mother was surprised by Fujikawa's calm before the gallery and before the press corps at the U.S. Open. And while corporate America may not find Fujikawa on par with the telegenic Wie with regard to marketing possibilities, it's clear that Fujikawa's maturity and accessibility have made an impression on fans and the media.

Could he be Phil to Wie's Tiger? Only if Phil developed a healthy mean streak.

Derrick Fujikawa said he and his wife wouldn't mind if their son eventually decides that his future isn't in golf after all. For now, their plan is to support him any way they can. No pressure. No expectations.

Fujikawa tempers his professional ambitions with precocious reasoning. While the family is willing to contemplate a move to the Mainland so Fujikawa can play against a higher level of competition, Fujikawa says he won't consider turning pro unless he's ready to compete — and win.

"If I'm ready, I'll go," he says. "If I'm close, I'm not going to go."

If he holds on to his amateur status, a likely stepping stone could be Stanford University, just as it was for Fujikawa's role model, Tiger Woods.

"Tiger played two years (in college) then turned pro," he says. "He felt he was ready and obviously he was. That's the same path I want to take."

Reach Michael Tsai at mtsai@honoluluadvertiser.com.