Las Vegas' favorite celebrity caddie

How strange. A week in early autumn, with two major Tours still in full swing, and a tiny island in the Caribbean is the center of the golf universe.

Vijay and Ernie, the World No. 1 and 2, respectively, are facing off in Scotland, but they can't match Tiger and Elin's star power. And the PGA Tour is making little or no bid for the headlines. The only top-four name here in Vegas is Phil Mickelson. It's sort of like the Rat Pack-era Sands dimming the lights and presenting... Joey Bishop.

True, there have been some early week divertments. Vegas resident Chris Riley, for whom this tournament is a seven-day block party, met the press on Tuesday, faced the Ryder Cup music, and charmed his way to absolution for his perceived Motown sins. (Lefty, alas, has been more or less underground. Maybe he's over at UNLV giving a guest seminar on how to undo, in three days of international match play, five months of positive post-Masters publicity.)

Potentially intriguing were the short-order inquisitions of Tiger SuperFriends like Scott McCarron, Charlie Howell, Jesper Parnevik and Stuart Appleby -- each of whom, sadly, pled ignorance about goings-on in Barbados. The only noteworthy tidbit came from McCarron, who says he talked to Mark O'Meara on Monday, learning that Marko and John Cook were the sole tour-pro wedding attendees.

With engaging storylines in short supply, the gaming capital, to its credit, helped fill the void by offering up an off-the-wall surprise. Indeed, the biggest name in the tournament -- at least to the locals -- may not be Riley, or even Mickelson, but Phil Hellmuth.

This week, the infamous "Poker Brat"-- who in 1989, at age 24, became the youngest-ever winner of the main event at the World Series of Poker-- is caddying for Corey Pavin.

The couple couldn't be odder. Pavin has long been one of the most gentlemanly, unassuming players in the game. Hellmuth, on the other hand, is poker's answer to John McEnroe. Tabled with lesser players, he never fails to berate them for strategic miscues. When he loses, he's constitutionally unable to acknowledge he's been outplayed. His signature line: "I guess if luck weren't involved, I'd win every hand."

If nothing else, Pavin's taking Hellmuth on as a bagman indicates the degree to which poker-mania now prevails on Tour. Although few will admit to playing, World Series of Poker and World Poker Tour telecasts have come to rival SportsCenter as must-see hotel room viewing. Anecdotal illustration: Chris DiMarco telling me, early on Tuesday evening at the John Deere Classic, that I'd have to interview him on the phone that night, because he was rushing back to his hotel to watch the WSOP on ESPN.

Pavin, in his words, hasn't "played a hand for money since I was about 12." Yet he's lately become a TV poker addict, and was thrilled when, two months ago, a mutual friend, noted infotech gazillionaire Carl Wescott, introduced him to Hellmuth at Wescott's home in Beaver Creek, Colo.

Part of that Colorado visit was a day at nearby Eagle Trace Golf Club. "The whole round we talked poker and golf," Hellmuth recounts. "At some point, he said, 'You know, I'd like to come watch you play.'