But Coldren had been the surprise leader after the U. S.

Open's first day, and now. with just a few holes remaining in the second round, Coldren was up by a commanding eight strokes. "What about him?"

"And Linda Coldren?" the man asked. "Do you know who she is?"

This one was easier. Linda Coldren was Jack's wife and far and away the top female golfer of the past decade.

"Yeah, I know who she is," Myron said.

The man leaned in closer and did the neck thing again.

Seriously annoying not to mention contagious. Myron found himself fighting off the desire to mimic the movement. "They're in deep trouble," the old man whispered.

If you help them, you'll have two new clients."

"What sort of trouble?"

The old man looked around. "Please," he said.

"There are too many people. Come with me."

Myron shrugged, No reason not to go. The old man was the only lead he'd unearthed since his friend and business associate Windsor Home Lockwood III Win, for short-had dragged his sorry butt down here. Being that the U. S. Open was at Merion home course of the Lockwood family for something like a billion years Win had felt it would be a great opportunity for Myron to land a few choice clients. Myron wasn't quite so sure. As near as he could tell. the major component separating him from the hordes of other locust-like agents swarming the green meadows of Merion Golf Club was his naked aversion to golf. Probably not a key selling point to the faithful.

Myron Bolitar ran MB SportsReps. a sports representation firm located on Park Avenue in New York City. He rented the space from his former college roommate, Win.

a Waspy, old-money, big-time investment banker whose family owned Lock-Horne Securities on the same Park Avenue in New York. Myron handled the negotiations while Win, one of the country`s most respected brokers.

handled the investments and finances. The other member of the MB team, Esperanza Diaz, handled everything else. Three branches with checks and balances. Just like the American govermnent. Very patriotic.

Slogan: MB SportsReps the other guys are commie pinkos.

As the old man ushered Myron through the crowd.

Several men in green blazers another look sported mostly at golf courses. perhaps to camouflage oneself against the grass-- --greeted him with whispered. "How do. Bucky." or "Looking good. Buckster." or "Fine day for golf. Buckaroo." They all had the accent of the rich and preppy. The kind of inflection where mommy is pronounced "mummy" and summer and winter are verbs.

Myron was about to comment on a grown man being called Bucky, but when your name is Myron. well. glass houses and stones and all that.

Like every other sporting event in the free world. The actual playing area looked more like a giant billboard than a field of competition. The leader board was sponsored by IBM. Canon handed out the periscopes. American Airlines employees worked the food stands {an airline handling food what think tank came up with that one?) Corporate Row was jam-packed with companies who shelled out over one hundred grand a pop to set up a tent for a few days, mostly so that company executives had an excuse to go. Travelers Group, Mass Mutual, Aetna (golfers must like insurance). Canon, Heublein. Heublein, What the hell was a Heublein? They looked like a nice company. Myron would probably buy a Heublein if he knew what one was.