By Mike Bianchi
Florida Times-Union sports writer
Morris News Service

He never even looked up.

Just kept right on walking, his smoldering dark eyes darting away and establishing contact with a crack in the sidewalk.

``Excuse me, Vijay . . . excuse me,'' I said politely. ``I'm from the Times-Union, and I was wondering if I could just ask you a couple of questions.''

Vijay Singh, a man with all the personality and pizzazz of a chicken pot pie, picked up the pace.

``Too busy,'' he said. ``Maybe later.''

Of course, later never came. It rarely does for Singh, a Fijian native and Ponte Vedra Beach resident who is about as media-friendly as Sean Penn, but not nearly as quick with the left hook. I once wrote that Jaguars coach Tom Coughlin had all the charm and wit of a sea trout, but, now, I take that back. Compared to Singh, Coughlin is your Uncle Eddie, downing tequila shots and dancing with the fake ficus tree at the family's annual St. Patrick's Day party.

But I guess I shouldn't feel badly about being dismissed by Singh yesterday after he shot an erratic 2-under-par 70 in the first round of The Players Championship. He has blown off the best in the business - Sports Illustrated, NBC, ESPN and just about every national golf writer worth his/her weight in comped greens fees.

``He gave me a whole lot of nothing,'' one Sports Illustrated writer said yesterday of a recent teeth-pulling interview with Singh.

``Clearly, he is not one of the easier golfers to deal with,'' added ESPN commentator Jimmy Roberts, trying to be diplomatic. ``Put it this way, I've dealt with friendlier people.''

Like, say, Albert Belle? Or, maybe, Sergeant Carter. For a man with such a poetic name, Vijay Singh (pronounced: Veejay Sing) is more of a grating noise than a song. To us working stiffs, it's incomprehensible how a guy who plays golf for a living, who gets to drive courtesy cars and have somebody locate his bad shots, can be such a grump.

Singh already has refused interview requests from all three Jacksonville TV stations this week, even putting his hand over the lens of one mini-cam as he brushed past. Jeff Prosser, a sports reporter for WTLV TV-12, has coined a new term for getting snubbed by Fiji's finest.

``You're about to get Singhed,'' Prosser predicted, a few seconds before my approach shot at interviewing Singh yesterday.

Even the PGA Tour, which prides itself on the accessibility of its players, is growing weary of Singh's surliness. At Bay Hill recently, Singh refused to come into the interview room after playing himself into contention with a magnificent third-round 65. Ironically, Bay Hill is run by the International Management Group, which represents Singh, and is the baby of Arnold Palmer, a golfer who always had time for the media.

Nobody knows why Singh is such a sourpuss, although ESPN's Roberts speculates that he harbors ill will toward the media because of past allegations of cheating.

``He just doesn't trust you 'media´ guys,'' Singh's friend and foe Nick Price says bluntly.

The shame of it is that Singh could be such a positive influence not only for minority golfers, but for anyone who admires overcoming obstacles through diligence and desire.

As a youngster growing up in Fiji, he learned the basics of golf from his father, an airplane technician. On one side of the airport was the Singh family home, on the other side was a nine-hole golf course. As Vijay grew older, he would often forgo the shuttle bus ride around the airport and sprint across the tarmac toting his clubs. At age 16, he left Fiji to pursue his dream of playing pro golf.

Today, he is noted for his marathon sessions on the range, where tour officials have seen him hitting balls even after dark. At a sinewy --6 feet 2, Singh has the ideal body for golf and a perfectly smooth swing that is a lesson in geometry. He was the PGA's Rookie of the Year in 1993 and won more than a million bucks last season.

In Hindu, his first name means victory, but we can only hope Sunday is not Vijay day at The Players Championship.

If it is, wouldn't it be wonderful if a triumphant Singh walked into an empty interview room?

Too busy, Vijay.

Maybe later.