Thank God he's back.
Yeah, I know Phil Mickelson's little story at Augusta was pretty heartwarming last year, but omitting the 10 minutes I invested in that event, this past weekend was the first time I watched golf on TV in over two years-even more shockingly, I chose to do so rather than spend a day outside in perfect weather.
Not surprisingly, Mr. Eldrick Woods' participation coincided with my decision to watch the Masters. Sure, there were other reasons to watch, like Jack Nicklaus' farewell, but the fact of the matter is I only watch when Tiger is in contention.
Since Woods last won at Bethpage Black in 2002, there have been a number of mundane, forgettable major winners (Shaun Micheel, Todd Hamilton, Ben Curtis). These are players who, after winning their respective majors, have had a tougher time making the cut at a Pro-Am than winning major number two. The public does not want to see these guys win majors.
The PGA is thankful that Woods got his swagger back just in time to re-invigorate the tour after weekly inclement weather had made the season irrelevant until this point. For all those who said that he couldn't dominate the way he used to without old coach Butch Harmon, or for those who said his ailing father and supermodel wife were big distractions, they witnessed a clinic in the third round in which he went from a four-stroke deficit to a three-stroke advantage in a span of only nine holes.
In the final round when a resilient Chris DiMarco made a charge reminiscent of Bob May or Sergio Garcia, Woods did what he always does: He held his lead.
On 16, when DiMarco had cut the lead to one stroke, threatening to tie Woods up with a birdie putt, Woods pulled off one of the greatest shots in the history of major championships. His chip from the fringe seemed to pause at the edge of the cup for an eternity before finally falling, confirming what we all knew. His "drought" of 10 majors without a win was about to end.
Although Woods showed his mortality the next two holes, relinquishing his lead, the outcome was never in doubt. Did you really think DiMarco had a chance? It would've been like Bryon Russell crossing over a stumbling Michael Jordan while nailing the game-winning shot-the sports Gods are a capricious bunch, but they just don't do that to the great ones.
Woods is that rare athlete that comes along once in awhile, a winner who the public wants to see win. Just look at the ratings whenever Woods is in contention if you think otherwise. But the real question is, why is Woods so popular while the other dominant athletes in individual sports are yet to ascend to his status?
Jeff Gordon, arguably the most dominant driver on the NASCAR circuit, is loathed by the common NASCAR fan for his "pretty-boy" mannerisms.
Roger Federer may evolve into the greatest tennis player in history, but he is not American, and is not exactly the most interesting character on tour. Even when American Pete Sampras was setting records in the sport, Andre Agassi was still the fan's favorite for his long hair, renegade attitude and tabloid romances.
Golf's greatest winner, Jack Nicklaus, only received popularity in his latter years, as the American public embraced Arnold Palmer during Nicklaus' prime.
So what makes Woods an international icon, while the rest of those individuals are only stars within their sport? There is no simple answer, but none of those athletes completely changed the culture of their sport the way Tiger has.
Before Woods emerged on the scene in Augusta in 1997, winning the Masters in record fashion, I thought golf was a blue-blooded sport.
It was meant for the sort of people with the country-club upbringing, a skill reserved only for those of the right socioeconomic status and race. Then this multi-racial 21-year-old, the son of a Vietnam vet, came on to the scene and shook the very foundation of it.
I always pictured the common PGA golfer possessed the portly Craig Stadler build, and while this was an extreme exaggeration, golfers weren't perceived as world-class athletes in terms of sheer physical stature before Woods. Woods demolished the mental image of the linksman. Woods is a lean 6-4 athlete who spends hours at a time working out. His commitment to physical training has forced other golfers to change their habits in order to keep up. It has been reported that Woods can bench over 300 lbs., strength that seems better suited for a defensive lineman, not a golfer.
A couple of years later, as I watched Woods win more Majors, my brother and my mom purchased a cheap set of used golf clubs for my birthday. I then took up the sport and found out for myself what the big deal was surrounding this game. This odd game makes grown men curse and violently throw their clubs one minute, and makes them scream for joy and kiss their caddie the next. I still play golf to this day, and while I am not exactly Tiger Woods on the course, I now enjoy a sport and the subculture that exists when you are a weekend hacker.
That little anecdote from my adolescence is the kind of effect Tiger Woods has had on a generation of golfers. When they see the way he intimidates his opponents just by hitting 3-wood while his partner is hitting driver, it makes us want to go out there and play. The past couple years, as his play has not met expectations, my interest in the sport has dwindled; however, it was never completely extinguished. Before Tiger Woods, I thought Arnold Palmer was that pitcher who was the spokesman for the Money Store, and I couldn't tell Nicklaus from Nicholson. Tiger has gotten me to appreciate a game that before his presence, I did not even consider a sport-and I am no longer ignorant to the grandeur the sport possesses.
