EYE OF THE OLD TIGER
Mr Nice Guy gives hint of steely edge
TIGeR Woods was genial. Tiger Woods was charm personified. Tiger Woods is the 111th best golfer in the world. You can grin your way through life as the 111th best golfer in the world. No pressure. No big whoop. Judging by some of the stuff said and written about Woods in the build-up to his 20th Masters, it will be an achievement if he makes the cut.
Very respected names have close to begged him not to compete. Woods doesn’t see it like that at all. He’s in it to win it. And it’s in those little moments that the old Tiger — some would argue the real Tiger — breaks cover again.
It was all smiles and wise-cracks as Woods sat before the assembled press yesterday. Questions that would once have been greeted with terse disregard were warmly expanded upon.
Memory lane was tripped down, the elder statesman played. He even referred to some of the correspondents in the room as his friends.
And then he was asked where a win this week, from one ranking place lower than Tomohiro Kondo of Japan, at a point in his career when it was wondered whether he would be seen on the golf course as a competing professional again, would rank in his career achievements.
And up leapt old Tiger. He didn’t answer this one with a short, evocative speech or a ready quip. He shut it down, old school. One sentence, no messing, no prospect of elaboration.
‘It would be my 15th major,’ said Woods. The temperature in the room dropped by several degrees. Brevity replaced levity. The questioner, gamely, tried again with a slight rephrase. ‘ Longong way to go before that,’ Woods s replied. ‘Lot of work to do.’ He smiled.miled. The chill passed.
And, of course, that is exactly what it would be. Just his is 15th major, if it signalled a true return to form. And on to the next one. World No 4 Jordan dan Spieth was in ninth gradede — 14 years old — whenn Woods won his last major r in 2008. But if he could win a fifth Masters he would be back in the game. And no more Mr Nice Guy, one feels.
From 111th in the world, Woods has time to take the scenic route in conversation. Back too where he was, back to conntending, he would be all business again. Not entirely ely like before, of course, becauseause he could never go back ck to before — but not many of the guys who are genuinelyuinely fancied to be wearing the he green jacket on Sunday night practised as Woods did yesterday,ay, with partner and kids in tow.
As Woods putted, Lindsey Vonn, a world champion skier, clutched Charlie and Sam and chatted to a passing Rory McIlroy.
The contrast was clear. McIlroy, whose easy manner and charisma require no effort, is not here to smell the azaleas. He is the world’s best golfer, on the brink of a third consecutive major in what would be a personal Grand Slam — only the sixth in the world to do it.
He has a lot at stake. Woods is on bonus time. In January, he shot an 82, 11- over- par, at the Waste Management Phoenix Open, his worst round in close to 13 years. A week later, he walked off at Torrey Pines after 11 holes citing back problems. His partner that day, Chris DiMarco, thought it was more out of embarrassment.
‘He wasn’t doing anything good,’ he said. Woods then took an indefinite break from golf, with claims he had the chipping yips. Yesterday he admitted being stuck between two release patterns, which amounts to the same thing. When he spoke of his journey to this point of return, it was clear he regards it as the second — maybe third, considering the events of 2009 — phase of his career.
‘People would never understand how much work I put in to come back and do this again,’ he said. ‘I worked my ass off, that’s the easiest way to describe it. I worked hard. Sun up to sun down. When the kids were in school, I’d be doing it. When they went to sleep, still doing it.
‘The way I saw it, if I started when the sun came up I’d be a better player when it set. Getting better incrementally. It would come in flashes. It would come for 10 minutes and then I’d lose it for an hour. Then I’d get it back. Gradually, it flipped. I’d have it for an hour, lose it for 10 minutes. And
then it was just there. There were some frustrating moment moments, but I had to stick with it. ThereTh were times when clubs flew, when a few suddenly slipped out of my hand — and travelled somesom good distances.
‘But we kept working, shot by shot, hour by hour. It was slow and steady, just taking little bits of progression. I had to hammer it out, make sure it was engrained. I just had to get through it.’
ANDnow he’s through it. And America waits. For while nobody expects the player one better than Hennie Otto of South Africa to beat among the most competitive Masters fields in the modern era, that doesn’t mean there is not a desperate yearning for the impossible to happen.
It doesn’t help that the man in Woods’s place is not Bubba Watson, or Rickie Fowler, or any of the other star spangled pretenders, but a 25-year-old from Belfast who plays for the wrong team when the Ryder Cup is on. Amer-
ica likes Rory, but it loves Tiger. His victories once caused a spike in Wall Street’s Monday morning figures, and golf’s television numbers have not recovered from his spell in recovery. So the positive lines in Woods’s Masters preparation are lapped up and thrown out as a potential feelgood hit of the summer. That’s why Woods is still, against all logic, asked about winning here. Why he plays the game, and talks about winning right back at them.
‘I prepare to win and expect to go and do that,’ he said. ‘I’ve come close in the last 10 years. Half of the tournaments since 2005 I had a chance on the back nine. I just didn’t get it done. For whatever reason, I didn’t seize the opportunity.’
The room seemed pleased with the answer. Woods was asked what, at 39, remained his greatest motivation.
‘Winning,’ deadpanned old Tiger, suddenly solemn. And then he smiled.
‘I like it,’ he said, before disappearing through a side door.
Tiger Woods is the 111th best golfer in the world and entirely at ease with that. For now.