The 17-year-old's career path, it turns out, is nothing more than a parabola, at least thus far. This week, it reached its nadir. Annika Sorenstam, who never says anything bad about anyone, let Wie have it for withdrawing from last week's tournament due to an alleged re-injured wrist just as Wie came dangerously close to shooting an 88, a score that would have forced her to lose her LPGA playing privileges for the entire year.

"I just feel that there's a little bit of lack of respect and class just to kind of leave a tournament like that," said Sorenstam, who hosted the event, "and then come out and practice (two days later at the site of the next tournament)."

Nothing that has happened so far in the rise and fall of young Michelle Wie compares to that. Not being carried off on a stretcher from last year's John Deere; not the fact that in her last nine rounds against the men, Wie has failed to break 76 and in her last nine rounds against the women, she has failed to break par; not even that rival Morgan Pressel beat her to winning a major.

No, when Sorenstam is on your case, take it as a big hint that your career is in a free-fall.

Wie, unfortunately, didn't get it. Asked in a news conference if she felt she owed Sorenstam an explanation for what happened, Wie replied: "I don't think I need to apologize for anything."

It's stunning, really, how poorly things now are going for one of the greatest female talents to play the game of golf. It seems like ages ago that she captured the nation's imagination when, as a 14-year-old high-school freshman, she missed the cut by only one stroke at a PGA Tour event in Hawaii. Last weekend, she missed something else in Hawaii — her high school graduation — so she could practice with that injured wrist of hers.

Shame on her parents, her agent, her psychologist — the whole lot of them — for turning a delightful only child into a confused cash cow. One would think those supposedly responsible adults would have been paying attention to little girls' sports over the past few decades. Does the name Jennifer Capriati ring a bell? The missed school time, the stranglehold of the entourage, the rush for the almighty dollar? The increasingly self-centered athlete? The massive crash-and-burn that usually follows?

Part of the Wie saga this week includes stories that she was a rather disinterested participant in her last two pro-am appearances, the very essential part of a golf pro's work week in which sponsors pay to play with her. This has led to tougher questions for Michelle. Naturally, as more excuses become necessary to explain what's happening in her career, Wie's press appearances become testier and she looks more miserable.

Ask her PR man Jesse Derris about this, and he understandably replies, "At a certain point, people need to step back and remember that we're talking about a 17-year-old just coming back from her first injury."

If only Team Wie had thought about that, if only it had taken the PR man's advice. If only every parent of a prodigy thought for an extra five minutes before encouraging their child to step off the sidewalk and join the parade. Now Michelle is ranked 22nd on Sports Illustrated's list of the top 50 richest U.S. athletes, at $20 million. Can No. 22 now just stop and take a break?

Three years ago, a smart girl athlete was asked about just this kind of situation.

"I think big money should be handled by mature people," 14-year-old Michelle Wie said, "and right now I am a little bit too immature for that big money. I don't think I can know how to use that money, so I think I have to get a little bit older, just get more mature, know more about life and all that, then wait until that happens."