Much of the fascination with Michelle Wie has come from her willingness to push the envelope with child-like abandon. For the last year or so, and certainly for the last month, she seems to be picking the wrong envelope.

The U.S. Women's Open ends Sunday, a month after Wie's graduation from Punahou School, which she missed in the midst of one of the worst weeks of her young life. Wie will tee off Thursday with Christina Kim and Natalie Gulbis, probably her two closest friends on the LPGA Tour, in an effort to restore her credibility.

And, oh yeah, play good golf. That is now seemingly secondary, which is strange considering this is the most prestigious tournament in the women's game.

Wie is coming back from the first serious injury of her career. Team Wie has finally acknowledged she fractured her left wrist while breaking a fall — and protecting her sore right wrist — in February. It took a terrible 16 holes at her first tournament back, and the ensuing controversy, to bring that in the open.

She is not physically able to play her best golf now, which people can understand. What they can't comprehend is why her injury was so secretive, why she came back clearly before she was ready, why she was playing so poorly even before her injury and why her recent actions have been so ... well, child-like.

"I think Michelle was the victim of a perfect storm, hit with a triple whammy," GolfWorld Executive Editor Ron Sirak said. "She had an injury, she has swing problems right now and she is running on low confidence. So the problems are physical, technical and emotional."

Those problems were aggravated by public relations nightmares at the Ginn Tribute Hosted by Annika and McDonald's LPGA Championship. Wie withdrew from Ginn with "wrist issues" after playing her first 16 competitive holes since Jan. 12 at the Sony Open in Hawai'i. She was 14-over par.

Initially, the Wie Topic was whether she had withdrawn to avoid the LPGA's "88 Rule," which prevents any non-member who shoots 88 or worse from playing the rest of the year. In the big picture, that made little sense. Wie hadn't missed an LPGA cut since she was 13 and was in contention on the final holes at the first three LPGA majors last year. She had proved herself LPGA worthy long ago.

At Ginn, she showed she was not yet healthy and probably should have withdrawn after nine holes, or turned down the sponsor's exemption until she was better. She also needed more than two full rounds of practice in five months, a total her instructor David Leadbetter confirmed, after saying her game was at "about 80 percent."

APOLOGY WOULD HELP

At the very least, Wie should have offered an explanation and/or apology to organizers and Annika Sorenstam before leaving, and going to hit balls two days later at the site of the year's second major. That basic kindness would have confirmed the pureness of her intentions. If she was too flustered to think about it, surely someone in the posse of high-paid adults surrounding her should have.

When Sorenstam brought that up the next week at McDonald's — "I just feel that there's a little bit of lack of respect and class" — Wie's woes multiplied. She made it worse when, blindsided by Sorenstam's comments at a press conference and not fully understanding the gravity of the moment, Wie insisted she had nothing to apologize for.

In between, there was talk of BJ Wie coaching his daughter on the course at Ginn and complaints from Pro-Am partners that led to a Team Wie conference with LPGA commissioner Carolyn Bivens. The only redeeming moment since she returned came when she gutted out rounds of 73-74 to make the cut at McDonald's, before a disastrous weekend created another swirl of criticism.

Wie's "perfect storm" has hit. What she does this week and summer will show more about her than any of the fascinating feats that have made her, arguably, the greatest draw in the women's game since she burst into the glaring spotlight while hitting her teens.

CHARMING START

Back then, Wie was charmingly precocious, with a game so good it made grown PGA Tour golfers cry. At first sight, Tom Lehman called her the Big Wiesy for her natural, effortless swing, so reminiscent of Ernie "Big Easy" Els. An amazed Fred Couples called it "the scariest thing you've ever seen."

It still can be, but for very different reasons now that she is mired in the first prolonged slump of her life. The flowing, rhythmic swing that local teaching pro Casey Nakama built at age 10 to fit what would become her 6-foot-plus frame was long and flowing, "a beautiful golf swing to watch," he still calls it.

Now when pros talk about it — those who have seen it early and often such as David Ishii, Scott Simpson, Parker McLachlin and Greg Nichols, and those who see it intermittently on tour — they are all but unanimous in criticism of the changes that have made her swing tighter, shorter, steeper and quicker.

"When Couples and Lehman saw her back then they told her, 'Whatever you do, don't change that golf swing. Just grow into it,' " Nakama recalled. "It was a real compliment to me. I knew I was on the right track. They've changed it to make it more rigid, to try and hit the ball harder. She lost that flow and you can lose some accuracy in that.

"The greatest thing about this game is when you gain somewhere, you always lose somewhere. Whatever distance she gained she lost in accuracy. ... There was no doubt they intended for her to play with the men. That's why they tried to have her hit the ball farther."

Nakama, whose junior academy at Olomana is immensely popular, believes that was "all wrong." He thinks the only cure is to return to her original swing, which could keep her out of contention for some time.

"It's a big mess right now," Nakama said. "They've got to take one thing at a time and try to undo the whole thing. To get back to that nice, flowing golf swing will take about a year."

TOUGHER ON WRIST

Some media quietly refer to her new swing, which took her to new heights early last year, as "Lead Poisoning." This despite their respect for Leadbetter, one of the most coveted coaches in the world —and also Els' teacher.

The new swing is also tougher on the wrists. Wie first injured her right wrist last October and it was still bothering her at the Sony Open in January. It got a needed rest while she was healing her left wrist, which was first diagnosed as needing four to six weeks to heal. Now, after five months, Wie still has someone following her to massage the wrist between shots.

"That's horrible," said therapist Pat Ariki of Sportsmedicine Hawai'i, who is convinced the injury was mis-diagnosed at first. "An elite player at a pro tournament, followed by a masseuse. Why is she out there? ... You're not going to be competitive."

Wrist injuries are notoriously fickle, particularly for those who "play" professionally. Venus Williams managed just two tennis matches between July and February because of what she termed a "wrist sprain." Greg Oden, expected to go first in Thursday's NBA draft, has dealt with wrist problems for a year.

More than the injury now though, many are worried about Wie's frame of mind. After all she has accomplished at such a tender age, expectations are beyond most imaginations. Every golfer knows how disheartening it is to play through a slump. To do that in front of the world, as the face of Sony in Asia, and while recovering from an injury, could only cripple what confidence remains.

Is it time to step back and re-evaluate the future? Is she still having fun? Who exactly is calling the shots?

SONY'S NOT PUSHING

Not the sponsors, according to Sony senior consultant Mike Dyer. He says "unequivocally" that Sony is not pressuring Wie to play now. And, reportedly, even those in her inner circle have been advising the Wies to slow down until her game comes back. That preceded last week's announcement she would not take the exemption previously accepted to play in next month's John Deere Classic, a PGA Tour event.

"I would be really surprised if any of her sponsors are putting pressure on the Wie family to get her out there playing," Dyer said. "That doesn't benefit anybody if Michelle is out there and not playing well. We all benefit when she's playing well and getting good publicity. It's counter-productive to push her before she's ready. She's a professional athlete and at that level you have to be at the top of your game to have any chance."

Wie has not been in contention in 11 months, after fanning Wie mania to a peak the first six months of 2006. She repeatedly threatened to become the youngest LPGA champion, contending at her first four women's tournaments, and created crazy energy in South Korea when she made her first men's cut. Wie transformed a normally benign sectional qualifier into mass hysteria when she staged a sincere run at becoming the first female to get into the U.S. Open.

But as the summer wore on, she wore down. She was taken away on a stretcher from the John Deere because of heat exhaustion. Since surrendering a two-shot lead in the final seven holes of the Evian Masters, Wie has not beaten par — or much else.

Sirak, who criticized the Wies' "sense of entitlement" in a recent GolfWorld editorial, believes Michelle has been "building a storehouse of negative memories" since Evian.

CONFIDENCE IS KEY

"They have to regroup and figure what direction to go," said Nakama, the former coach. "Michelle's confidence is at an all-time low. What is real scary about something like this is confidence is the key ingredient in playing good golf. When you start losing confidence, it's real hard to get it back.

"They are teeter-tottering on that line now. It is so early in her career. You've got to be real careful where you go from here ... a lot of things are piling up."

Others are not so pessimistic, including Team Wie.

"A lot of people are jumping to conclusions that are maybe not appropriate considering the long-term outlook everyone on our side has," said family spokesman Jesse Derris. "The fact is, we're still dealing with a player who is 17 and Michelle has a long career in front of her and an incredibly bright future. She's coming back from her first injury, to a part of the body that, for a golfer, is akin to a knee injury for a football player.

"It takes a while to come back. It will take a while for her to get the strength back she had before the injury. She's being patient and it would be nice if others were patient, too. You look at others who have been hurt and it takes time. A lot of times others set expectations for folks. The fact is, as she comes back, she'll get better."

TYPICAL TEEN ANGST

Golf analyst Mark Rolfing, a family friend of the Wies, simply sees a 17-year-old going through one of the most memorable times of her life, while coping with huge adult angst. It's a weird and rare combination.

"This is not unusual at all," Rolfing insists. "What is unusual about it is that everybody in the world is watching and listening. ... This is a natural progression in a teenage girl's life. When you go on the national scene dealing with the situation she is, it just manifests whatever issues you would have as a 17-year-old who just graduated from high school."

Rolfing views Wie's career in stages. The 11-to-14 stage was "beyond belief in a small market." From 15 to 16, she "tried a lot of things, some successful, some not." Now, "she's in the third stage and there will be a fourth at some point. I wouldn't argue with the path she's taken at all right now."

Neither would PGA Tour player McLachlin, whose brother Spencer graduated from Punahou with Wie. McLachlin, one of Wie's most vocal supporters, has played with her since she was 12 and fondly recalls their first round together.

"I had heard she was a great golfer and her parents might be a 'little involved,' " McLachlin recalled. "I played a practice round with her and thought her parents are involved. They care a lot, but they had a really cool relationship with the three of them, laughing, walking down fairways, having fun. I will never forget that practice round, how much fun we had."

THERE'S TIME FOR FUN

It is different now, he acknowledges. Recent rounds together were much more "business-like." He hopes the Wies step back and look at what is needed for Michelle to reach her potential, and have fun again.

"I don't think Michelle is in it for two or three years," McLachlin said. "This is a 20- or 30-year career she is beginning now. It is in its infant stages. The big picture ... maybe sometimes it gets a little tough to see."

Those who know her best are not about to give up on someone who has accomplished so much. But all share a common concern for the happiness of the phenom still four months shy of 18.

GolfWorld's Sirak believes LPGA players would get over their anger, fed most recently by the Ginn debacle, and embrace Wie if she joined the tour. He would like to see her play the yearly 10-event minimum until she graduates from Stanford and forget the men's tours. For all the fallout that follows her on that tour — there are parents of LPGA players who all but stalk the Wies to report any hint of impropriety — she draws the most compelling crowds and her presence helps all involved.

But only if Wie can come back from the first speed bump of her remarkable career. Hawai'i's Ishii figures "now we'll see if she's extraordinary or normal." Sirak promises patience.

SHE'S GAME ENOUGH

"There are swing and confidence issues that will take time to fix," Sirak said. "But she is an enormously talented player. One question is whether or not her passion for the game and love of golf is strong enough to get her through a difficult time."

Those closest to her here have no doubt.

"People are always asking me what I think about Michelle, especially recently with her being in the news for the wrong reasons," McLachlin said. "I always say I know Michelle personally and I think she's a super girl. She's almost 18 now, so she's almost a superwoman now.

"I have nothing but great things to say about Michelle. I think she's a great person and she's been great for promoting the game of golf."

Reach Ann Miller at amiller@honoluluadvertiser.com.