Sure, I’m fascinated by Tiger Woods. I’m fascinated by him because I cannot figure him out. I have no idea what drives him, what inspires him, what makes him laugh (other than a misplayed chip bouncing into the hole). I don’t know if he’s happy living the most luxurious and public life imaginable, or if happiness is beside the point. I don’t know if he plays otherworldly golf because it’s pivotal to his existence, or because it gives him a high he cannot get anywhere else, or because that golf has won him a billion dollars and the hearts of men on Wall Street and a Swedish supermodel, or if he’s inescapably bound to the dreams of his father and a poster of Jack Nicklaus that he had on his wall as a child.
I don’t know if Tiger Woods hears the cheers and shrieks as he walks through the crowd, stonefaced, distant, alone, like a prison guard walking the line past the cages while a ring of keys swings and sways off his belt buckle. Maybe he really does not hear them, does not hear us, maybe he really is insulated by gallery ropes and five layers of concentration. It’s worth nothing that when he stands over a golf ball he can hear a camera shutter release seven football fields away. I don’t know. It’s a mystery. I don’t know why he throws his clubs like a petulant child when he hits a bad shot or how he climbs into his soul like an old man at peace when he needs to hit a shot close to the hole. I don’t know if hits a thousand golf shots a day through pain and aching monotony because he still rages to become the greatest golfer who ever lived or because he doesn’t really know what else to do, his destiny has been declared, his coronation has been scheduled, his status as the greatest golfer who ever lived has been prophesied — or as Jim Murray said: “Carmen was announced, Carmen will be sung.”
All I know about Tiger Woods can be summed up in about seven words: “I knew he would make that putt.”
Everyone knew that. The first time he made the putt, it felt like a replay. The second time they showed the putt, it already felt like history. This was Sunday, the 18th hole, U.S. Open, officially 12-feet (the newspaper reporters settled on 12 feet — newspaper people still decide such things) over bouncy, chewed up green, birdie putt for a playoff against Rocco Mediate, the 45-year-old Salieri trying to match genius with the broken down Mozart. Woods’ knee shot with pain all weekend when he hit certain shots, so he spent Sunday chewing Alleves or Advils or whatever is the Tiger licensed pain-killer of choice, and he spent Sunday trying to avoid those face-cringing shots. Tiger Woods’ Sundays are usually staid, sober, painless affairs — he usually wins by lethal injection, by shooting solid rounds through the wind and tension while everyone else goes all Jerry Lewis. But this one was different, this was an Opera, complete with staggeringly bad shots, a few touches of brilliance, a little hesitancy and finally this putt, 12-feet, to force the playoff.
“I knew he’d make it,” Mediate shouted when Tiger made it. We all knew. Anyone could make that putt with the right read, a good stroke and a touch of providence. I’d even say that most excellent pros could make that putt in that moment, under that pressure, with a throbbing knee and a U.S. Open at stake. But only Tiger would make it. Maybe that’s the difference with Tiger, the difference between could and would.
* * *
I don’t know why he celebrated like that. When that Sunday putt dropped, Tiger Woods clenched his fists, raised his putter and his eyes toward the sky, shouted pure joy. Maybe it was different from some of his other fist-pumping celebrations. Maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know. I don’t know what was going on in his head. I don’t know if he was happy that he had put himself in the playoff and given himself the chance to win the U.S. Open, his 14th major championship, one closer to Jack’s 18. I don’t know if he was proud of the way he had played for four days, through pain and doubt, if he was shouting, “Yes! I did it!” If it was his way of playing the NBC golf theme, “In Celebration of Man.”
Or, maybe, I don’t know, maybe he looked a little bit surprised, like he had amazed himself for once. For more than a decade now, we have watched Tiger Woods expect perfection, expect every putt to drop in, expect every drive to split fairway, expect every shot out of the sand to check up by the hole. And when those things did not happen, he grimaced, and he stomped, and he slammed clubs into his bags, and he made motions with his hands that suggested the wind had conspired against him or there had been an unexpected disturbance in the earth’s gravitational pull. What happens to a man when he has hit so many sublime golf shots that he no longer knows anything else? Does Tiger Woods feel the same kind of joy we feel when he does something miraculous? Or is miraculous just a part of him now? Maybe this was different. Maybe he was surprised. If you can’t feel surprised when you make a 12-foot bumpy putt on the 72nd hole of the U.S. Open to force a playoff — if you can’t take that moment to shout out, “Damn, I really am amazing!” — when can you?
I don’t know any stories about Tiger Woods that seem to reveal him. I know one about Joe Montana. I remember reading a story about Montana after he retired, and in the middle of another discussion he said that he likes driving on icy roads. Something about that makes sense to me … maybe Montana needs tension in his life, pressure, danger, something that pulls him out of the monotony of the moment. You know, a person like that could thrive in the final two minutes.
I know a pretty telling story about Michael Jordan. It seems that he was practicing before a game, and arena people were going through all the scoreboard games to make sure they worked. “Hey,” Michael yelled out. “Who wins the dot game tonight?” They told him … say it was blue. That night, during a timeout, the dot game began. Jordan turned to Scottie Pippen: “Hey, bet you a thousand dollars blue wins.” Something about that gets me closer to Michael Jordan, his hunger for action, his need for control, his preparation, his desperation to win. Pippen agreed to the bet, which tells you plenty about him too.
I know a pretty good story about Jim Palmer, a thinking pitcher who has the same lifetime ERA as Tom Seaver, a better winning percentage than Cy Young and also three of Cy’s Awards. I always thought Palmer should get more thought when discussing the greatest pitchers ever. Anyway, when Ron Luciano was umpiring, he used to get his kicks by taking baseballs that pitchers discarded, putting them in his pouch, and trying to sneak them back into play later. It’s a fun experiment, if you think about it, and the only pitcher who threw the same baseballs out, time and again, was Jim Palmer.
I know a story that might explain the comedian Don Rickles too. When he was just starting out, he was at a club with a date, and Frank Sinatra walked in. Rickles had a passing relationship with Sinatra at that point, and his date wanted desperately to be introduced. Rickles walked over and said, “Frank, please, I’m with this woman, she wants to meet you, it would make me look like such a big shot, please come over to the table.” Frank agreed, and after a while he did walk over and said, “Don, how are you?” To which Rickles shouted, “Frank not now! Can’t you see I’m with somebody?”
Point is, I don’t know any stories about Tiger Woods. Not any good ones. Tiger mostly keeps the stories to himself. He sanitizes his image daily. He speaks in platitudes and technicalities and circles — “I love competing,” he says, and “I just try to stay in the moment,” and all that. He does not want to be known.
Some say there’s nothing else to know, that he is what you see, a machine, a force of nature, a golfing prodigy grown into a golfing virtuoso, a computer that calculates only wind and grain and yardage and spin. Bob Costas, in a striking moment during Sunday’s final day, held up a copy of Tiger Woods’ book, “How I Play Golf” and suggested that as a companion, people could read Ludwin Van Beethoven’s “How I Compose Symphonies” — the idea being that Tiger’s genius is innate and mysterious and unknowable.
I don’t know if that’s right, though. Every so often something leaks out — a dirty joke, a wry smile, a hidden meaning — that can make you believe there’s something deeper than what you see. Of course, that could just be the Chauncey Gardner effect too — maybe it’s just tempting to give Tiger Woods’ words added wisdom and his gestures added weight because he can hit a golf ball better than anyone. But I don’t know. I think there’s something there.
* * *
Wait, I do have one Tiger Woods story. I was in Charlotte a couple of years ago, following around Tiger and Michael Jordan, they were playing a Pro-Am round together. They both ended up on the green, Tiger’s ball was maybe 15 feet away, Michael’s maybe 5 feet. And suddenly there there was something else going on. The playfulness that had been fluttering around their pseudo-competition stopped for a moment. Yes, this was golf, Tiger’s game, not Michael’s, but here was something close to a fair fight, a 15-foot putt against a 5-foot putt with everyone watching. Putting, perhaps, is about will, about nerves, about something that Tiger Woods and Michael Jordan understand better than perhaps anyone — that sports ability to win.
Tiger putted first, and he stalked the green the way he does, panther-like, tiger-like, looked at his putt from all angles, transformed himself into that steely and familiar figure from the television set. He stood over his putt, balanced and sturdy, and he knocked it in, stared it in, and then he looked at Michael Jordan and nodded. Your turn.
And then Michael Jordan looked at his putt, so much shorter, straight as a yardstick, and he stood over it uneasily, and he glanced over and saw that Tiger was looking at him, straight at him, with not a touch of humor in his face, and then the greatest basketball who ever lived, the man who carved opponents hearts out, the man who could trash talk a defender into hiding and intimidate a scorer into airballs … yanked his putt left.
“I’m a professional,” Michael said to cover up his mistake. “But not at this game.”
Everyone laughed, including Tiger. But the point was made.
* * *
I don’t know why Tiger seemed so sure. But he did. On Monday, in the playoff, he trailed Rocco Mediate by 1 shot going into the final three holes. Tiger looked confident, which was no surprise, but he also looked MORE than confident. He looked like he knew. He looked like he had already played the final few holes, hours earlier, and the outcome was decided, and he would win, and he was simply waiting for everyone else to find out.
Of course, he could not have been that sure. Unless he was. I don’t know. I’m fascinated by Tiger Woods because I don’t know, because his greatness is not easily explained. Jim Brown was bigger, faster, strong and meaner. Michael Jordan had more weapons and more intensity. Richard Petty had faster cars. Wayne Gretzky has more imagination and the touch of a pianist. Steffi Graf hit the ball harder and closer to the lines. Roger Clemens threw 95 mph, and his split-fingered fastball fell in trap doors, and he could locate those pitches, and he’d hit you in the head if he felt like it. Even Jack Nicklaus’ greatness comes down to hitting ball higher, longer, straighter and his uncanny ability to make the putts he had to make. He also played the game seriously and with purpose and force. There are a lot of similarities between Jack and his hunter.
With Tiger, though, there seems to be something beyond even that … yes, he DOES hit it higher, longer, and he does have an uncanny ability to make putts, and he’s magical around the green in a way that Nicklaus was not. But there does seem to be something else inside him, a sense of time, a sense of the future, a sense of destiny. I remember once an opponent talked about trying to beat Bjorn Borg on the clay, and he said something like this: “You go out there saying, ‘OK, I don’t care if I have to be here for seven hours, I’m going to stay patient, and I’m going to keep hitting shots with this guy, and I’m going to outlast him. … Only then, about an hour into the match you realize that he doesn’t care if he has to be out there ALL WEEK or ALL MONTH or ALL YEAR. And that’s the moment when he has you.”
And that, in a sense, is Tiger. He was in trouble on Monday. He took a three shot lead, seemed certain to win going away, and then Rocco Mediate made three birdies in a row, played his heart out, took the lead, placed himself just one good putt away from putting Tiger Woods away. And yet, Tiger never seemed concerned. He never seemed in trouble at all. He seemed to know that Rocco would not make that putt. Tiger seemed to know that he would birdie 18 and force a playoff. He seemed to know that once that playoff began, Rocco would yank his drive, he would blink, just like Michael Jordan did, just like anyone would who has just realized that there’s no beating this guy, not in a fight like this one.
And yet again, maybe Tiger did not know any of that. Like I say, I don’t know. I do know he kissed the trophy at the end again.
* * *
I know one more Tiger Woods story. Last year, Tiger was at Oakmont Country Club, he was giving a tour of the course to eight lucky American Express card holders. He was in good spirits, as he can be when he doesn’t feel crushed by attention or on the record with the press. He explained his strategy on each hole. He explained that every shot must have meaning, purpose, a certain shape, there are no throwaways in golf, no mulligans. The only way to win is to make every shot something close to perfect.
Oakmont is probably best known for its Church Pews bunker — a huge bunker with seven grass covered ridges running across it. The group walked up to it, and were awed, and Tiger seemed in a great mood, and finally one of the fans nervously asked if Tiger might hit a golf ball out of the bunker.
“No,” Tiger said.
“Will you teach us how to do it?” someone asked.
“Hit it there,” Tiger said, and he pointed toward the fairway. They asked him again, and Woods again refused. After a few more requests, he did step into the bunker for a photo, but even then he refused to have a golf club in his his hand, and he refused to hit a golf ball out of the bunker. He said he would not hit one out during practice either.
Why not? Because, he said, he had absolutely no intention of being in that bunker. Ever.
“Why bring negativity into your thoughts?” he asked, and nobody had a good answer for that one.
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68 Comments, Comment or Ping
Grunthos
Firstly, Joe, you should be charging something for this. Seriously. Your work is too good to dole out for free.
Secondly,
“I don’t know if hits a thousand golf shots a day through pain and aching monotony because he still rages to become the greatest golfer who ever lived or because he doesn’t really know what else to do, his destiny has been declared, his coronation has been scheduled, his status has the greatest golfer who ever lived has been prophesied — or as Jim Murray said: ‘Carmen was announced, Carmen will be sung.’”
As someone who has been down multiple roads because they were expected of me, there is one thing I can guarantee you, Joe: if you are doing something because it was ordained for you, because it was your expected place, because you don’t know what else to do… you don’t succeed like Tiger succeeds. I suppose you can be a success of sorts under those conditions, but to excel, to grind out what you have to grind out every day in order to win, well, you’ve got to *want* it.
Beyond that, I have no more idea than you how he is what he is. Perhaps the weirdest thing is, it’s still compelling to watch. Remember when guys were writing articles about how Tiger was boring, how his dominance would drive people away because the wins were so automatic? Yeah. Not so much.
Jun 16th, 2008
Grant
Joe, this is some of the finest writing on any subject I have ever read. And I don’t even like golf. Don’t care about it at all.
So, uh, thanks. Thanks very much.
Jun 16th, 2008
Keith K.
I am amazed by Tiger’s accomplishments as anyone, and these tournaments are more fun to watch when he is in the mix. But I can’t stand this “mysticism” that surrounds him, this “innate ability to win” that people attribute to him.
There is something of a self-fulfilling prophecy here, or a selective memory, or whatever the Psychology 101 term is that fits. Tiger has won more than anyone. But for every shot that “I knew he would make” that goes in, there are 10 that “I knew he would make” and didn’t go in. We don’t remember those.
Tiger was great all week, especially considering the knee surgery. But he also sent drives into the rough and misplayed approach shots in absolutely crucial moments. He gave up a three-stroke lead with eight holes to play against a decidedly inferior player. Where was the “magic,” the “otherworldiness” then?
Just let him be the best, based on his ability and his determination. There is no need to bring his “sense of time, a sense of the future, a sense of destiny” into the discussion.
Jun 16th, 2008
Scott Tobias
Fantastic stuff, Joe, and maybe the most incisive unpacking of the Tiger persona that I’ve read to date. As much as I understand people’s frustrations with him on any number of levels– the robotic sense of purpose, the child-like petulance, the complete unwillingness to say or do anything remotely colorful or controversial (if all athletes could be like Rocco Mediate, sports journalists would have it made)– he remains to me the single most riveting figure in any sport. During his rookie season, I remember taping the early rounds of obscure, non-major golf tournaments just to watch him skulk around the course. And I haven’t grown tired of him since, because he makes the most infuriating and humbling of sports look conquerable. That takes a level of discipline that’s unimaginable, and I think it goes hand-in-glove with his essential inaccessibility. He’s not a man to know, but phenomenon to be gawped at.
Jun 16th, 2008
Brian
Joe - awesome article. Poetic. This belongs in your next book. Maybe it should be a book collecting the best blog postings? With a title like “The Slightly More Random and Free Good Stuff.” Or “Posterisks: Joe Posnanski’s Attempts to Explain Sports and Pop Culture on an Internet Blog”
Jun 16th, 2008
ian
joe, i feel guilty reading this knowing that you aren’t getting paid for this. brilliant stuff.
Jun 16th, 2008
Mikey
You know, I respect Tiger (who couldn’t) and I don’t dislike him per se. I just find him a little….soulless.
Maybe that’s too harsh a way to describe someone I’ve never met. Maybe it’s more accurate to just say that he’s corporate.
To update an old line about the Yankees, rooting for Tiger is like rooting for Google.
Jun 16th, 2008
Jay
Thanks for the great insights and speculations into the mind of Tiger! Fascinating stuff. I know you’re a fan of Simmons so I just wanted to share this old coulomb he did, but maybe you’ve already read it. Apparently back in 2006 Bill got ten minuets to interview and play video game golf with Woods. It’s so good it has stuck with me ever since I first read it:
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/061012
Keep up the great work Joe! And there’s nothing wrong with you doing the blog for free. There aren’t enough good free things in the world these days.
An excerpt from the Simmons piece:
Meanwhile, we were playing video golf the entire time. Tiger birdied the first par-3; I bogeyed it. (In my defense, it’s tough to interview a celebrity and play video golf competently at the same time. I’d love to see Andrea Kremer or Jim Gray pull this off.) Our second hole was a par-4. We both hit killer drives. After his approach landed in the fringe in front of the green, I hit a towering approach that landed on top of the green, then rolled back, and kept rolling, and kept rolling … and wouldn’t you know it? It landed three feet from the pin! I couldn’t decide whether to trash-talk him or not, finally opting against it. You never want to bait Tiger Woods. Not even in a video game.
So what happened? Tiger responded by chipping in his third shot for a birdie. He even pumped his fist a little — not one of those “I just birdied the 16th at Augusta on Sunday” pumps, but a tiny “I didn’t want to lose to this schmuck from ESPN” pump.
“I just won,” he said.
“You didn’t win!” I objected. “I’m still putting for birdie.”
“You’re gonna miss it,” he said.
There wasn’t even an ounce of trash talk in his voice. He was utterly and completely convinced I would miss it. He knew I would miss it. This is an obscenely confident man. There’s something almost James Spader-y about him. It’s disorienting.
“It’s three feet,” I said. “I’m not missing it.”
I lined up the putt. Because of the glare, I could barely see the squiggly lines that indicate where the green breaks. I leaned forward. I was squinting. The Xbox controller felt as foreign as ever. Tiger was staring me down. Now I was worried I would miss it. And if that wasn’t enough, the greatest golfer alive was making little “yip-yip-yip-yip-yip” noises in the background to throw me off. He wanted me to miss it. He needed me to miss it.
Jun 16th, 2008
Dwight K. Schrute
So help me God, you could write a blog entry on the merits of grass growing vs. paint drying and I’d forward it to 50 friends, as I just did with this.
Jun 16th, 2008
Mikey
Rocco said something interesting in his gracious post-round interview. As he was lining up his birdie try on 18 he said to himself “Ok, you’ve been waiting your whole life for this putt.”
In any pressure situation, telling yourself that you’ve been waiting your whole life for this moment probably doesn’t increase your chance of success!
Meanwhile, When Tiger walked up 18, I thought he just looked like a person in command of his situation. It seems fair to guess that he wasn’t telling himself that he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. You will sometimes see that look of total command from a great actor or musician, but almost never from an athlete.
Jun 16th, 2008
Justyo
Great post Joe.
I was just saying to a friend, while watching him on Sunday that Earl Woods must have been the greatest teacher golf has known. What I would give to hear some of what he used to tell Tiger, how he would inspire such talent and love for the game. I know Harmon and other’s have helped him in his adult life but I have a 25 month old son who is very coordinated but I still can’t imagine him wielding a club like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wHkA_983_s
Look at the joy in Tiger and Earl.
Also, having experience with loss I believe Tiger is playing for Earl and reaching new, unprecedented heights because of his inspiration and memory.
Jun 16th, 2008
Brian L.
I echo everyone’s thoughts: this is brilliant. Thank you.
And my two cents on Tiger: He is Neo from “The Matrix.” He simply bends reality to his will in a way that seems impossible to literally everyone else. And at some point, he’ll meet up with his Agent Smith. Probably some kid he has inspired - who thinks he can understand what makes Tiger tick - and at that moment we’ll finally understand Tiger. For now, we can bask in the reflected excellence.
Jun 16th, 2008
Jim Haas
Nice Jerzy Kosinsky reference, Joe.
I always hated watching golf on TV, but watched the Sunday round and was transfixed by that same question — who is this guy, really?
Great post. Put in The Collected Essays of Joe Posnanski. Make it the centerpiece.
Jun 16th, 2008
Brian
You know why I recommend this blog to everyone I know who cares about sports and/or writing? Pieces like this - looks like it could be a preview-excerpt from “Best American Sportswriting 2008″, but it’s posted just a few hours after the event.
Bravo, Joe.
Jun 16th, 2008
theDAWG
If you really feel bad about him not getting paid, BUY HIS BOOK!
He didn’t hawk it in a post for once, so I’ll fill the gap for you.
Great work as always…
http://www.amazon.com/Soul-Baseball-Through-ONeils-America/dp/0060854030/ref=tag_dpp_lp_edpp_ttl_ex/105-5704225-3006823
Jun 16th, 2008
D.B. Cooper
Top notch. Again.
I really like Tiger. I’m not sure what’s behind the “mask,” but unlike Kobe or ARod, I am convinced that there’s something. There’s never going to be another Ali, Jim Brown, or Curt Flood - the downside is too high, and the upside (to effect meaningful change) doesn’t really exist any more.
I’ve been watching him for 15 years, and I’ve never seen him miss an important putt inside 10 feet. There’s something very comforting about that. It’s a constant in the world - he will make that big putt to win (or tie).
Rocco Mediate played a hell of a golf tournament, and seems like a hell of a guy, too.
Jun 16th, 2008
antoniomo
Joaldo,
I like the collage of photos at the top of your blog. It’s good to see Quiz remembered.
And I agree with virtually everyone else who’s posted. Fasicnating, well-written article on Tiger.
Jun 16th, 2008
stepbaker
Great article.
Joe, you made me care about golf while I read this. And I hate golf.
Jun 16th, 2008
Jerry
Great stuff… The Chauncey Gardner (great reference, “Being There,” one of my 10 favorite movies of all time) - I think is true with a lot of athletes… Their “genius” on the course or court or field, while apt there, doesn’t necessarily translate to other parts of life… sometimes simple simply is, simple…
Jun 16th, 2008
John Ziegler
A friend of mine forwarded me this blog. As someone who has been more on the record with my Tiger Woods obsession than probabaly anyone else over the past twelve years (I created the “First Church of Tiger Woods on the radio in 1996 and the website http://www.tigerwoodsisgod.com in 2000) I have enjoyed reading the thoughts about “The Chosen One.”
It seems that everyone here has questions about the true nature of Tiger. Perhaps a visit to http://www.tigerwoodsisgod.com will provide some answers
Jun 16th, 2008
Noel
Fantastic stuff, Joe. You know, you should write a book some day.
(I kid, I kid. I bought TSOB for Christmas)
Jun 16th, 2008
Richard
I remember reading a blurb about Tiger years ago. The Stanford football team returned to campus late on a Saturday night after a game. It was pouring down rain, windy, just miserable. One of the players noticed the lights on at the driving range and went over to check it out. Late on this miserable night, alone, was Tiger (then a Stanford student) whacking golf balls. “What in the world are you doing out here on a night like this?” Tiger responded, “Practicing my rain game.”
With this type of determination and work ethic (not to mention prodigious talent), its no wonder that he KNOWS he is going to win.
Jun 16th, 2008
Alan
I think Tiger, in the world of professional golf, is like many of us were, at certain things, growing up. Maybe, in your neighborhood, you knew you were going to win every time in basketball, or football. Or maybe you dominated in that hockey board game. Maybe you were the king of Wiffle Ball. Or maybe, today, you trounce your family and friends in Monopoly.
It’s the same thing. Just at a much higher level.
Don’t you think you would be pretty confident if you had 13 Majors in the bank; untold amateur titles; you made around $100 million last year; you could out-drive your opponent by 30 to 40 yards; you would have a 4-iron into the green versus an opponent who would likely have to lay up on 18; and you have made big putt after big putt in your career?
Who would panic in that situation?
It is like playing against your little brother before he grew up. You knew you could intimidate him and take away his will to fight.
Jun 17th, 2008
MattieShoes
That was a beautiful piece of writing. There’s a strange thing that happens with sports… Some people connect with it, and some don’t. It always frustrates me to talk to the people who don’t, because I can’t make them SEE what is is that’s so engrossing. No matter how hard I try, I can’t explain to them why it’s meaningful. I have the same problem recommending my favorite books. Even if they like the book, it doesn’t mean as much to them as it does to me. They just don’t GET IT and it’s so very frustrating.
But you’ve managed to convey all of that in this post. Somebody who doesn’t care a lick about golf or sports in general would still understand why Tiger is so amazing at what he does. They’d FEEL it. Maybe tomorrow they still wouldn’t care about sports, or golf, or Tiger, but while reading this, there’s no way they CAN’T understand.
Jun 17th, 2008
Stoney
Joe, great post, as always.
I thought the prime example of Tiger at his apex of confidence was a shot yesterday on TV. They showed him, I believe on the 16th tee box, crunching on an apple, down 1 shot with 3 holes to play. He looked so ridiculously relaxed and in control. He KNEW he could not lose. The guy will never cease to amaze me.
Jun 17th, 2008
Mikey
David Brooks of all people has a very good column about Tiger in today’s NY Times. Worth checking out.
Jun 17th, 2008
Paul O.
I love the Don Rickles story.
Jun 17th, 2008
Flanders
“…Rocco Mediate, the 45-year-old Salieri trying to match genius with the broken down Mozart…”
Awesome…
Jun 17th, 2008
blair
Joe, as always, a great read. Some thoughts… I think you touch on some things in this article that get to the heart of Tiger: his elusiveness, in terms of “knowing” him, center on both his talent and his private life. In regard to talent, it really is remarkable what he accomplishes, over and over–these incredible feats that elude the proper words to explain it. We can never know how he does what he does, and it’s done within a game where what he does sometimes makes no sense.
In some way, I can understand Jordan hitting the shot against Cleveland, and against Utah, and those threes against Portland. And I can understand something like Gibson’s home run. These things, to me, are in the realm of possibility in those sports. But in golf, curling in thirty- and forty-footers, and coming up with shots–in hugely big moments–seemingly at will, over and over, is beyond my understanding.
And so because we can’t understand his talent, we try to understand him as a person. And he doesn’t allow that to happen. He’s again elusive, which leads to people having a problem with him, or calling him “soulless.” I don’t know, but I find it inconceivable that that a guy like this–with his talent and his emotion–has no depth. I think it simply comes down to one of Joe’s comments: “He does not want to be known.” And I think Tiger’s ability to actually control that too, to NOT be known, is an amazing feat in itself, especially in these times where an athlete’s or celebrity’s private life is endlessly pried at.
Why do we need to know? Maybe some things are better left unexplained, unknown, and simply just enjoyed.
Jun 17th, 2008
Mike
Wow.
That was a great great story.
Jun 17th, 2008
Ron
I have heard a story on Jordan, but you might want to check up on it. I don’t remember where I heard it.
The story goes that Jordan paid the baggage guys at an airport to put his bags out first, then bet his teammates that his bags would come out first.
Great post. Don’t say this website hasn’t made you any money, I am buying your next book because of it. Still, thanks for all the great posts. Even a Banny log after a bad game makes for good reading.
Jun 17th, 2008
Mike
Rooting for Tiger is like rooting for Google? That one kind of stung, until I really thought about it. I work for Google, and you would be shocked (I sure was…) at how much time, effort, and money goes into “doing the right thing”. So if that makes Google like Tiger, I’ll take it as a compliment. And I’ll say, agreeing with your comment is like agreeing with Kobe
PS - the line is, “Rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for the house in Vegas.” And it’s from a Bill Simmons article (reader actually) from a few years back.
Jun 17th, 2008
Mark H
Here’s my problem with Tiger… Jack had Arnie, Rodger Federer has Nadal, Even Kasparov had Big Blue. Phil, Sergio, Els, you name it. SOMEONE has to challenge this guy. It’s almost like Tyson without all the childhood baggage. He doesn’t feel the pressure… he’s won 13 of these majors. The pressure’s on the other guy. Watching the extra 18 on Monday, the story was not man vs man, it was man vs himself. Even when Tiger loses, he KNOWS it’s not becuase someone else was better, it was because he wasn’t his best.
Once the invincibility is shattered, like Buster’s KO, when he plays his best and it’s not good enough to win… THEN things will get interesting.
Jun 17th, 2008
Mikey
Actually, I think the original, original line was “rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for U.S. Steel.” That goes back to at least the Mantle-Maris era bombers.
Fittingly I had to google that line to confirm it.
I’m in awe of google. I couldn’t do my job without it, and I really think it’s the most important new company since Ford. But you google guys and Tiger are both so damn good, so rich, so invincible, and still so young that I can’t help but root against you sometimes.
Now where can I send my resume?
Jun 17th, 2008
Ron Salsig
Joe –
This is Ron Salsig. When I was the golf writer for the Oakland Tribune, I was privileged to cover Tiger in his teenage years. Often, it was just Earl and me following Tiger. After the round, often I would go to get something to eat with Tiger and Earl. Now Earl was always outspoken, but also greatly misunderstood (but that’s another story). Tiger was usually quiet, in his own way. He would repeat that he would let his clubs do the talking. He still tells me that, and in a way I respect his position. Perhaps an analogy would help.
I always considered Tom Robbins the greatest American author. He is a recluse, hardly ever gives interviews. I actually met Tom once, and we became friends. I asked him once why he didn’t give interviews. He said that more often than not, the interviewer would ask him what he thought of John Updike. So he stopped giving interviews. More to the point here, Tom believes that his readers should not know that much about him. He feels that too much knowledge about the author detracts from the story. He would rather his readers enjoy his stories than analyze them. The point is not the author, it is the story.
I see a lot of that in Tiger
RS
Jun 17th, 2008
Joe
Joe,
Great post as always. This was the best, and certainly the most in-control article (ie: not “This was the greatest U.S. Open ever) about Tiger’s triumph this weekend. And thank you for quoting Jim Murray for everyone.
I have one response to Mark, who posted that Tiger doesn’t have any competition. Rick Reilly wrote, I think back in 2000, that Tiger doesn’t have any competition because he’s crushed them all. The point Reilly made was that without Tiger Els, Mickelson, Singh, et al would have many more majors and be considered much more worthy opponents.
The irony is that Tiger has so dominated them that they are underrated as competition to him.
Jun 17th, 2008
George
first time i have read your blog…And I must say its one of best written short stories…your descriptions add life and vitality to what some times could be an overplayed story..but after watching Tiger for the past 15 years. I will offer my own quote from Omar Khayyam:
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Tiger continues to write a history that can never be cancelled or washed away.
Jun 17th, 2008
Jan J
Like the other guy said, I’m not much for golf, but this writing is something else. Thanks for putting it together.
Jun 17th, 2008
tigerfairways
Good article but alot of us who follow Tiger do know alot about him and his close friends know that Tiger on a daily basis. Tiger would loose his edge on the copmpetition if he told us everything about himself and how he ticked. Some things are better untold.
Jun 17th, 2008
E.F. Ugland
Joe,
I enjoyed your well-written post on Tiger, but I don’t get why you are so perplexed by him.
Your post is like so many assessments over the past few years that seem like they’re built around a body of evidence compiled on four Sunday afternoons.
They focus on Tiger’s icy gazes and zen-like concentration like it’s evidence of a character flaw, concluding that Tiger must be a cold automaton who just mechanically performs the tasks he’s been trained to execute since birth. (Never mind that practically every golfer on tour was essentially born with a club in his hand).
And when Tiger does show emotion on the course, they question whether (A) he really feels any of this or whether he’s just going through the motions, or (B) he is just trying to perform in order to satisfy the coercive oversight of Earl Woods.
Nobody can do what Tiger Woods has done without a genuine passion for the game and an overwhelming desire to be the best. He clearly loves what he does. He gets off on the competition.
How can anyone watch Tiger’s reactions on the 18th green on Saturday, Sunday and Monday and entertain for a second the idea that he is on some forced march or that it’s a joyless exercise for him?
And he is just as candid as other golfers in critiquing himself with reporters. He is constantly ripping on his own performance and talking about how he made stupid mistakes at different points in his rounds. Yet, when Phil Mickelson says, “I’m such an idiot,” it’s depicted as an endearing and quintessentially human moment, but when Tiger does it it’s treated as evidence of an all-consuming perfectionism.
People who describe Tiger as enigmatic just aren’t paying attention. Tiger is a relatively private person with a small group of close friends, and he enjoys his privacy. But that doesn’t make him a recluse or difficult to understand — at least no more so than Jack Nicklaus, who was standoffish with the media, or Ben Hogan, who was practically a ghost. And what kind of evidence do you want? Nobody would have characterized Lee Trevino as being hard to figure out, but how many of us knew in the mid 1970s that Trevino was an alcoholic and, by his own subsequent admission, a terrible husband and father?
Tiger has started an enormously successful foundation, he is launching two learning centers, he conducts clinics for kids all the time, he has been an ambassador for the game overseas, he continues to mentor the golfers at Stanford, he is always willing to talk to reporters after his rounds, and he even does an occasional cheesy car commercial. He is certainly not inaccessible or invisible. There is a huge body of evidence from which to draw conclusions about him.
If you can’t think of any stories about Tiger, you just haven’t looked very hard. Talk to his friends: Roger Federer, John Smoltz, Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley. They will tell you about him. He’s a bad tipper (or used to be). He swears. He gambles. He tells dirty jokes. He has nicknames for everyone on tour. He likes to bust his friends’ chops … and then takes their money on the course. He goes to Stanford basketball games and jumps four feet in the air when they win at the buzzer. He is an incredibly proud dad who talks openly and frequently about “Sam.”
Where is the mystery? Do you really know less about Tiger Woods than Phil Mickelson or LeBron James or Joe Montana? What exactly do you need to know to form a conclusion?
Have you seen the clinic Tiger put on in Orlando for the Golf Channel where he talks about school and about his friends and about how important his time was at Stanford, or about his relationship with his mom? Have you seen the documentaries in which Tiger’s friends, coaches, family and others who really know him talk about what his life was like growing up or what he’s like off the course? Have you noticed the energy he has put into his foundation and the time he spends with kids in any number of settings? Have you noticed all the interactions he’s had with people on the men’s and women’s tours, where he has a lot of good friends — Annika Sorenstam, Notah Begay, John Cook, Mark O’Meara, etc.
I guess I just don’t get how people can continue to characterize Woods as enigmatic. I think it’s unfair, because it’s a subtle way of discounting what he has accomplished. It implies that his success inauthentic somehow because Tiger is not really human; he’s just the freakish product of a maniacal father who used him to satisfy his own delusions of grandeur.
It’s an interesting characiture, but based on all the evidence I’ve seen, a bogus one.
Jun 17th, 2008
Carltonh
Joe,
Great stuff, as always. YES!!! I bought the book. So there. I’d drug my feet long enough.
WHY was this the biggest victory of Tiger’s career? The injury played a part, sure. But WHAT was Sunday? For those of us who have lost their fathers…it’s kind of a hollow day, as opposed to a holiday. (I lost my dad at 6…about the time Tiger’s sweet swing was developing.) Tiger wanted that victory for his father. It’s really that simple, in my opinion. (Sure, it took him until Monday to seal the deal. But the point remains.
chh
Jun 17th, 2008
MC
The national media’s obsession with Tiger, and golf for that matter, is nauseating. My 16 y.o daughter has more composure at the junior H.S. dance than these idiots do blushing and gushing over him.
Jun 17th, 2008
Monkeyhawk
I’ve wondered if Woods is the Judy Garland of sports; thrust into a life in which he’s obviously gifted, but denied a chance to do anything else.
Not that I think Garland would have turned into a Nobel Prize-winning astrophysicist if given the opportunity. Ya just gotta wonder what’s gonna happen when and if Tiger gets the yips.
Golf is a silly game and not really a sport. A sport has somebody playing defense against you. Like horseshoes, it’s a game of skill. But it’s not a sport.
Golf is the only-est reason ESPN sometimes airs poker games. Poker games!
Golf is the only ball-and-stick game (other than that hard-fisted croquet and the utterly athletic pocket-billards) where the player hits a ball at rest.
I’m sure there’s an eight-year-old girl somewhere who plays dynamic and inspiring Hopscotch. Give her a Buick and a zillion-dollar endorsement contract. It’d be about the same as Tiger Woods’ deal.
Jun 17th, 2008
twayn
Joe,
So who died and made you Dan Jenkins?
Seriously though, a great read as always.
Jun 17th, 2008
Evan
Joe, this is the first time I have read one of your articles, and all I can say is “wow”.
I have posted your Blog as one of my favorites to go to, and I look forward to reading other material.
Truly an amazing read; clearly the reflection of an amazing write. Thank you.
Jun 17th, 2008
Tim Daloisio
Joe…..more than spectacular. I stopped halfway through and decided that this story was so good it needed to be read out loud. Just reading the words didn’t do it justice…I spent the next ten minutes in my hotel room reading out loud to myself, with a dramatic montage of Tiger video with background music dancing behind the narration playing out in my head. Brilliant.
Jun 17th, 2008
Will McCulloch
http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2007/jul/16/golf.theopen20073
This is the story that people always forget
Jun 17th, 2008
Adam
Great story, Joe. However, if I had the choice, I’d much rather be Rocco than Tiger. Rocco has in spades what Tiger seems to lack– the ability to step back from the game and see what’s really important. Yes, Tiger has a very deep understanding of the importance of his relationship with Earl, but what is he without golf in his life? Rocco seems like he really has some perspective on the relative importance of golf, and winning, in his life. He would do just fine in life even if he weren’t blessed with skills beyond what most people have. My question is, how would Tiger do?
Jun 17th, 2008
Steve Duddleston
Wow…thanks Will for that link. I’ve never knew of
that part of his childhood…
Joe…another masterpiece… Thank you.
Jun 17th, 2008
Art Vandeley
Joe,
You’re the Tiger Woods of sports journalism.
AV
Jun 17th, 2008
Dru
Joe, have you heard about The Baseball Project? It’s an all-star band (Pete Buck of REM is involved) that has an album of just baseball songs. They’re on Letterman on Friday. Check it out; the “Harvey Haddix” song is pretty good.
http://www.myspace.com/thebaseballproject
Jun 17th, 2008
M. Taylor
Adam at 7:34 PM
Tiger will do just fine without golf in his life, should he be unable to play another competitive hole due to circumstances of health. Sometimes, it would pay to do your own research from various sources re Tiger Woods: a start would be to read Will’s post as well as checking out Tiger’s website. Tiger is much more than he reveals in his post-round interviews. Tiger has known joys and sorrows, just like everyone else. Because he does not “whine” about but let time reveal all, does not make him any less human.
Congratulations Tiger and keep up the good work.
MT - a mother of three young adult sons who knows a bit about raising sons and how proud I am of Tiger.
Jun 17th, 2008
MattieShoes
Big Blue is IBM. The computer that beat Kasparov is Deep Blue. Though actually it was sort of named Deeper Blue — Kasparov destroyed the original “Deep Blue” a few years before the more famous rematch. But Kasparov’s nemesis wasn’t a computer, that was just a silly six game exhibition. No, his nemesis was Anatoly Karpov. Karpov played Kasparov for the championship five times, and his aggregate results were 19 wins, 21 losses, 104 draws. Their clashes were titanic and amazingly close. And chess players have a “prime” almost identical to sports players, and most of these were on the tail end of Karpov’s prime. I think if you want to use a chess comparison to Tiger Woods having no competition, Karpov would be the better fit.
Bobby Fischer won the world championship convincingly in 1972. In 1975, Fischer chose to forfeit his title rather than defend it… against Anatoly Karpov. So Karpov became champ, but since he didn’t actually BEAT Bobby Fischer, his championship status was always a bit tainted. He never had the chance to face off against Bobby. For the next decade, Karpov absolutely OWNED chess. He played the best in the world and crushed them in Tiger’esque fashion, proving that he was in a class all his own. He had a streak of nine consecutive tournament wins during that time, a feat just as impressive as any of Tiger’s to me. But there’s always the “yeah, but…” Tiger doesn’t have an Arnold Palmer, Karpov doesn’t have a Fischer.
With the benefit of time and the easing of the cold war, Karpov’s amazing talent is getting more recognition now. People are finally accepting that he was the real deal, and now he’s often ranked the second best player of all time, ahead of Fischer (behind Kasparov, who incidentally broke Karpov’s consecutive tourney record by winning 14 straight).
There’s a story about Karpov that isn’t confirmed, but I believe it. In 1972 when Spassky was preparing to defend his title against Fischer, he played a mock championship against a young up-and-comer to get into form — Anatoly Karpov. And Karpov won, convincingly. There’s speculation that Spassky losing his warm-up match may have shaken his confidence and led to his lackluster performance against Fischer. Hmm.
In 2002, a 51 year old Karpov played Kasparov in a four game rapid chess match. A quick three-minute summation can be found here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QXRR9Ql7kI
So for my money, I’d say golf has its Karpov, and golf’s Kasparov hasn’t shown up yet. I’m looking forward to it.
Jun 17th, 2008
Jason
I can’t help reading your posts, but I also can’t help but see Ellsworth Toohey when I read them. Only he would try and figure Howard- I mean Tiger out.
Jun 17th, 2008
Ross
wow Joe- gotta say that is one of the better pieces of short sports writing I’ve read, seems almost… I don’t know… outta place on this blog (and I love the blog).
Anyway, SI had links to all the old stories they ran after each of Tigers (and Jacks) Major victories. I went back and re-read a few. I completely forgot how much they made of the racial aspect to Tiger winning those first few (and they certainly should have). It was actually kind of a shock how much those stories focused on him being a multi-racial golfer other than on him being a magnificent golfer.
I think it says a lot that we (at least I) don’t see him as a black (or multi-racial) golfer anymore, but just as the greatest golfer ever. In fact I couldn’t recall the last time I heard mention of his race until I went and re-read those stories.
I think this really says a lot of the impact Tiger has had, not only in Golf and in Sport but even in our culture. It’s a really wonderful thing.
Jun 18th, 2008
Mark H
Joe, you wrote:
“I have one response to Mark, who posted that Tiger doesn’t have any competition. Rick Reilly wrote, I think back in 2000, that Tiger doesn’t have any competition because he’s crushed them all. The point Reilly made was that without Tiger Els, Mickelson, Singh, et al would have many more majors and be considered much more worthy opponents.
The irony is that Tiger has so dominated them that they are underrated as competition to him.”
Reilly’s argument makes no sense. They are underrated as competition because Tiger has dominated them?? They may be under-rated as GOLFERS because Tiger has dominated them, but they are rated perfectly as competition to Tiger. My point was that up to this point, Tiger’s winning or losing has nothing to do with the competition and everything to do with himself. If he plays his best, he wins. No-one is close enough to compete with his best. What we saw this weekend was far from Tiger’s best… If not for a couple of incredible putts and a chip-in, he wouldn’t have done it. He pulled way too many drives into the rough (and still made pars). And Rocco having the weekend of his life still wasn’t good enough. THAT is what I take from this weekend, and Tiger’s greatness.
Part of what make the greatest in sports is that rival lurking in the shadows, pushing the great ones to greater heights in order to keep their edge. Martina Navratilova would have never become the player that she became if not for the fact she couldn’t beat Chrissy, and Evert would never have pushed her game further if not for the fact Martina passed her by and forced her to get better to match Martina.
Golf doesn’t have that one-on-one that most other sports do, but we still haven’t seen Tiger play his best and have it not be good enough. THAT was my point.
Jun 18th, 2008
Jason Ardanowski
I was one year old when Jack tore up the back nine at Augusta in ‘86. This U.S. Open was the best golf I’ve ever seen. Yet it wasn’t just great golf - it was a fierce competition that had a visceral element to it. The playoff felt like a brawl. Tiger and Rocco’s play seemed to transcend golf and enter the realm of a great tennis match or boxing bout, where the bond between the athletes is much more proximate and intimate than in golf.
Woods, of course, has called this the best of his 14 major championships. Most pundits have thought it because of his knee - and I’m still astonished by how he gimped through 91 holes. But it has more to do with Rocco ALMOST beating Tiger mentally.
Mediate is really who he appears to be, but part of his respect for Tiger and his abilities sounded like calculation. Rocco, especially when he broke into Woods’ Saturday night presser, was baiting Tiger - but he claimed to be unworthy of Woods, NOT better than him. It worked, up until the 90th hole.
The most revealing part of Rocco’s post-playoff interview came when he said (I’m paraphrasing), “I really thought I had a chance to win. I shot [level par] 71 yesterday, I knew I could do it again today, and I knew he was hurting.”
Not quite, Rocco: Tiger is going to shoot level par. You’ve got to go one better. Mediate needed to go onto the 18th tee with absolute confidence that he would stick his wedge approach and make a birdie to close the door. Instead, Rocco seemed happy to even have a putt, missed it, and finished 5-5. That was decisive. But who can fault him? For six holes, from 12 to 17, he stuck it to Woods with the stakes at their absolute highest.
Jun 18th, 2008
Creston
I think the thing with Tiger is that he does realize he’s living his father’s dream life, and that maybe, somewhere deep down, that’s not really what he wants to be doing.
On the other hand, he’s making 100 million dollars a year playing a freaking GAME, and one for which he doesn’t even have to work out and do cardio for eight hours a day. His work day consists of casually sountering around beautiful, beautiful golf courses, occasionally swinging a club, and practicing a sand wedge and some putting here and there.
So it might not totally be what he wants to do, but as things that are somewhat forced upon you go, it’s not all that bad.
And I think it’s a strong lure for him now that he can genuinely go down in history as the greatest ever to play golf. That’s probably a hard thing to resist for a guy.
Jun 18th, 2008
Creston
Btw, to me, the Michael Jordan “dot” story just shows a sad, desperate man. A man who needs to win SO BADLY that he’s perfectly fine with winning by cheating.
A thousand bucks doesn’t mean anything to him, it doesn’t mean anything to Pippen. It’s like if I bet a penny on something trivial. But why bet when you already know?
Michael Jordan is the kind of guy who’ll cheat at counterstrike and gloat that he won.
He’s also the kind of guy that would have MOST DEFINITELY used steroids if they had been useful in basketball.
Jun 18th, 2008
Creston
That was an absolutely fantastic article/post Joe. Bravo.
Jun 18th, 2008
Steve Schwartz
Great article but some mistakes at the end. First of all, there were 80 of us at Oakmont - not 8. Second, it was my business partner speaking with Tiger at the Church Pews. He asked Tiger if he dropped balls in those bunkers during his practice rounds and Tiger said no for the reasons you gave. When Mike Tirrico asked him to do it anyway, he pointed to my partner and said, “he asked the question - let him hit it!” And my partner, a 17 handicap, hit the single best and most pressure filled shot in his life! Tiger was truly fun to be with - even told the “marshalls” to drop the ropes. We had no idea he was coming and were blown away by the day.
Jun 18th, 2008
Angelos
Creston
June 18th, 2008 at 1:15 pm
What the heck are you taking about?
Jun 21st, 2008
Robert Blinder
Joe, I have been reading you for some time and you always satisfy, but this is your best ever. I am fascinated by Tiger, but after reading this entry, I am truly fascinated by you.
Jun 25th, 2008
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