When Tiger and I had something in common

Love him or loathe him, it was great to see Tiger Woods winning again last weekend. I’m not a fan of the man but, boy, can he play golf. And his victory in the Tour Championship left egg on my face because I was one of those who said he would never win again after his litany of problems in recent times.

He wasn’t the only one who made something of a comeback last weekend, although his was far more spectacular than the other one, which was mine.

There were 1 876 days between Woods’ previous victory and the one last weekend. Last Saturday, I returned to the course after a 109day lay-off to recover from shoulder surgery.

My shoulder was still a bit stiff and I wasn’t expecting much, but I had missed the company of my regular fourball – Joe, Paul and Janneman – and figured even if I played like a dog it would be nice to get out and mix it with the boys again.

I started steadily enough and actually hit some really nice shots, heading to the par-five ninth in a healthy position (Janneman and I were four skins up on Joe and Paul). Joe, being Joe, decided he would start calling Janneman and I “foreskins” in an attempt to put @GuyHawthorne us off, but we were having none of it.

The ninth is a fairly straightforward 480m par-five and is rated the easiest hole on the course at stroke 18. I hit a fairly nice drive, but still had about 220m to the green. From the dog-leg left about 150m off the tee, the fairway slopes all the way down to the green and I flushed a three-wood that bounced just short and rolled on to the front edge. I missed the long eagle putt and the three-footer for birdie, but walked off with a solid par.

Then, on the stroke 17 16th, another par-five, I experienced true bitter-sweetness. Janneman and I had by now wrapped up our skins competition against Joe and Paul. We were nine skins up with three holes to play and the drinks at the 19th were going to be on them.

Because I had been hitting the ball nicely, I decided to have a real go at my drive on this 460m hole. As so often happens when you try to force the issue, I stood up on the shot and sliced my tee shot way out of bounds, forcing a reload off the tee.

This one was a smoother swing and I flushed my drive down the right side of the fairway, leaving myself 200m to the pin. I absolutely nailed a five-iron over the pin, leaving myself a 30-footer for what would be an unlikely par. My putt never looked like missing and found the centre of the cup, but I was very bitter about hitting my first tee shot out of bounds and missing out on what would have been one of very few eagles in my long golf career.

It was a fantastic day and although we are worlds apart as golfers, I could identify with Woods’ delight as he celebrated his victory on Sunday.