The 2015 Masters is over and a bright young man named Jordan Spieth completely dominated the field and the record books on the way to his first Masters victory at the very, very young age of 21. His play, with very few exceptions, was masterful and the way he carried himself made me proud to be a golf fan and pleased to know that we’ll all have many years of watching him in the future.
And then there was Tiger Woods.
I remember watching him when he was just starting out and believing that golf had been changed. Changed it was, during the 90’s when he was the only player who ever stepped foot in a weight room and actually made a huge effort to look the part of an athlete as well as becoming a student of the game. He mesmerized galleries and TV viewers alike while he made grown men in the PGA look like complete amateurs out on the course. He broke records and impressed everyone with his dominance and ability at that time. He also marketed himself as the idyllic face of golf, a consummate family man, and All American Hero type guy.
Then the fall. The reports that he bedded or attempted to bed any and every female of the human species found within one hundred miles of a golf course were brought to light. Then came the lies. The lies about his (now) ex-wife didn’t really use his head as a golf ball when she found out about his philandering. The lies about his health and the ridiculous “mis-firing glutes” and strange back injuries that would cripple an elephant but only cause poor play in a man of Tiger’s immense stature. Then there were the reports that this guy was a real pain to be around and how he treated the press, and even fans.
Yesterday he accidently hit a root of a tree with during a swing and, according to Tiger, “A bone kind of popped out and a join kind of went out of place, but I put it back in.”
Unbeknownst to all of us, apparently Mr. Woods is a man with “Mr. Potato Head”-like appendages that can simply “pop back in” any bone or incorrectly “firing glute” that is affecting his ability to play. Like walking into Mordor, one simply doesn’t “pop back in” a bone. This isn’t Martin Riggs from Lethal Weapon popping back in his shoulder. Tiger is now simply able to realign bones and align cartilage as well as restoring damaged tissue that would arise from such a “pop out.”
Tiger Woods must be Batman.
The truth is that Tiger Woods, for all his history and amazing past lay, is now irrelevant. He keeps people watching because of the drama of his past, but his constant injuries and poor play, along with a healthy dose of Karma, has seen to it that new stars are rising for professional golf. Stars that are genuinely nice people and don’t have stigmas of poor treatment of women, possible PED use, holier-than-thou attitudes, and gigantic egos are making their presence known in the PGA.
I, for one, am relieved.