Monday, April 15, 2019

Your 2019 Masters Champion

There was a time when I wrote so many posts about Tiger Woods that he had his own "tag."  You can find it on the sidebar, and if you click it you'll see that it's been a little more than 9 years since the last post.  It might as well be a lifetime.

Around the time of this blog's debut, Tiger was on one of those streaks when it seemed as if he would never lose again.  It was late summer, 2006.  He had just won four consecutive tournaments, including the Open at Hoylake and the PGA Championship at Medinah.  Any debate over his passing Jack Nicklaus as the golfer with the most major championships was centered on when, not if, that would happen.  Literally anything seemed possible.  Little did we know, the clock was ticking and his time at the top was almost up.

He won the PGA again in 2007, and at the U.S. Open in June 2008 he turned in one of the most amazing performances in the history of the sport.  Armed with a decade of hindsight, it seems obvious that he should have sat that one out.  Watching at the time, we could see the pain he was in, as he hobbled up and down the fairways of Torrey Pines and did the sorts of things that he always had done - make impossible shots look easy, and make the easy shots better and more often than anyone else.  It was a great triumph.  At my office on the day of his 18-hole playoff with Rocco Mediate, several of us spent the afternoon running back and forth down the hall, towards the one office that had a television.  That day, one of our group speculated that Tiger would end up with 22 majors before his career was over.  Again, little did we know.

Much of what transpired after that triumph was ugly, or sad, or a combination of the two.  It wasn't the first time in the history of sports that we discovered a chasm between an athlete's public persona and their personal lives, but it was certainly one of the most painful.  After Tiger returned to golf, every now and then we'd see flashes of the old brilliance.  For a time, he continued to win tournaments.  He contended in an handful of majors, but never came close to capturing #15.  People stopped talking about his chances to pass Nicklaus, and many people shut down the debate in their own minds about which all-time great was better.  And Tiger's body continued to deteriorate, to the point where he reportedly told friends and fellow golfers that he wondered if he'd ever play again.

Following spinal fusion surgery, he mounted another comeback.  And this time, he began to play well enough that one began to wonder: just how far might he come back?  When he won the Tour Championship last September, it was a wonderful moment.  It would have been enough - he had proven that once again, he could triumph over the best golfers in the world, in an atmosphere that was close to what he'd confront in a major tournament. 

Heading into this year's major season, I really thought he had a chance to win one.  I didn't think it would be at Augusta.  More likely Pebble Beach at the U.S. Open, or even more likely at Bethpage Black, which will be hosting the PGA Championship next month.  He's won majors at both venues, and it just seemed to be asking too much to think that he could triumph at Augusta and don the green jacket for the fifth time.  There's a lot of really great players right now, and unlike the days when Tiger began his era of dominance, nearly all of them are as physically fit as he was in his prime.

It was a busy week at work, so I didn't get to see much more than a few highlights of the first two rounds.  But what I saw, and what my friends and fellow golf fans were telling me, was that from tee to green, he was dominant - clearly better than the field.  His kryptonite seemed to be putts in the 6-12 foot range, and if he could start dropping some of those, who knew what might be possible. 

When the final round began early on Sunday, a lot earlier than normal due to the threat of heavy weather later in the day, I was as nervous as I'd ever been watching a golf tournament.  And as it began to play out on the back nine, it seemed almost like a miracle.  Tiger wasn't quite as dominant as Nicklaus' 30 on the back nine in 1986, but at the same time it felt similar, as the drama and pressure of the moment began to claim one major champion after another - Molinari and Koepka at 12, and then Molinari again at 15 - while Tiger himself did everything he needed to do.

And most notably, while playing smart golf - conservative when the occasion demanded, not trying to take more than the golf course was prepared to give him.  And when he flirted with a hole-in-one on 16, and then made the birdie, it was just a matter of time.  He was going to be the 2019 Masters Champion.  And when it happened, it was glorious moment.  And not just because of the accomplishment, but because of the way he reacted to it.  We've never seen Tiger that happy following a victory, with the possible exception of his first Masters championship more than two decades ago.  Then, he embraced his father.  Now, he embraced his son, then his daughter, and then his mother.  The smile did not go away.  And he seemed to realize just how lucky a man he is. 

Back in his days of dominance, he attacked the game of golf as if it were his enemy.  There were few things in sports as unpleasant as watching Tiger Woods on a day when his game was off.  I hope I'm not wrong about this, but I don't think we'll be seeing that Tiger Woods again.  He's got nothing left to prove at this point.  During the weekend, someone - it may have been Jim Nantz - noted Tiger had said, "I don't need to win any more majors.  But I want to."  With this one under his belt, it's only natural that we begin to speculate about more - after all, he's already won majors at both Bethpage and Pebble - but everything that comes after this is just icing on the cake.  This was the big one.  This was the weekend where he made his case for being the greatest golfer of all time.  And it was a pretty damn good case.

Tiger Woods.  Your 2019 Masters Champion.

1 comment:

GeorgeB said...

Great and well phrased, Jeff. We were enroute home from Brussels on Sunday so I didn’t get to see the final round. We were enroute to Sydney In 2000 when he won the open by 15 strokes at Pebble Beach. Two final rounds I missed.