What began in scattered whispers would become the course-wide buzz, quickly sweeping from the front gate to the most distant tee at Waialae Country Club yesterday:

The Kid had a chance.

By the time he strode up the 18th fairway, where he calmly sank a 15-foot eagle putt to put an exclamation point on his stroll into golfing history, everybody at the Sony Open in Hawai'i and watching The Golf Channel knew the name of Tadd Fujikawa.

It was a far cry from earlier in the tournament when he was announced as "Todd."

With a poise well beyond his 16 tender years, a game for even the pros to envy and a self-effacing politeness we could all take lessons from, the Moanalua High sophomore became the youngest player to make the cut of a PGA Tournament in 50 years.

His 4-under-par round of 66 yesterday gave him a two-day total of 3-under 137. That made Fujikawa, who turned 16 Monday, the youngest to make a cut since Bob Panasik at the 1957 Canadian Open, who was 15 years, 8 months and 20 days old.

Michelle Wie drew the cameras and the crowds to Waialae, but it was the 5-foot-1 Fujikawa, well after Wie had departed with a dismal 14-over 154, who sent them home with a feel-good story bound to end up on the Disney Channel.

Fujikawa, who was the youngest U.S. Open qualifier in 106 years last year, was a success story at Sony just for making it through qualifying to get on the course this week as the lone amateur in the 144-player field.

Not much taller than his driver, Fujikawa stood tall in the mounting pressure of the moment as the galleries multiplied, many coming over from Wie's following.

After consecutive bogeys on holes 14 and 15 reduced him to even par, slicing thin his chances of making the cut, Fujikawa came out firing from the right sand trap to reach the green and then sank an 18-foot birdie putt on the 16th hole. He celebrated with a double pump of the fist and a jubilant knocking of knuckles with amazed playing partners Steve Wheatcroft and Boo Weekley.

And in the twilight of the day, the promising career of a new phenom dawned.

"Before that putt, he had been leaking oil, and to make a putt like that was just huge," Wheatcroft said. "That was a (championship) putt."

Whenever Fujikawa encountered a challenge along the course, spectators would tell his mother, Lori, "No worry, Mom." And, she would smile knowingly because she knew what the gallery was steadily coming to learn, that her son, born 3 1/2 months premature, possesses some kind of tenacity.

"To tell you the truth, he's a real fighter who thrives on pressure," said his caddie Garret Hayashi, the Mid-Pacific Institute golf coach. "He's a natural."

So much so that not even the presence of The Golf Channel's camera, sometimes within three feet of his face, made him blink.

"I just told myself at the beginning of the round, 'Just go out there, hit the shots,' " Fujikawa said. "I knew I had the shots in my bag. I just needed to execute. I did that, and it's a good feeling when you can hit a shot that you want to hit."

Through it all, smiling from ear-to-ear on sunburned cheeks, Fujikawa talked with the crowd and thanked well-wishers personally. When he took time to ask for a ruling on a ball lodged against the fence on 15, he apologized to his partners for the delay.

When a couple from New Jersey told him not to be discouraged by a bogey at 14, Fujikawa, who said had been snubbed by golf pros in the past and vowed never to treat others that way, winked and flashed a shaka sign that would become his trademark.

In the end, as he made his way up the 18th fairway, Fujikawa's partners, in a display of sportsmanship, recognized the chicken-skin nature of the moment and permitted him the walk of a champion, letting him to go on ahead to what became a standing ovation.

"It was something to see, all the people that turned out to see him," Wheatcroft said.

Reflecting on the depth of his accomplishment and what it means for today, Fujikawa said, "I'm probably not going to win this tournament. No, truthfully, I'm probably not going to win this tournament, but I'm certainly going to do my best. And it may happen, maybe, like 1 out of 100 times, but you never know."

Not after yesterday, anyway.

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