After a painful PGA, is it time for Tiger Woods to consider retiring?
It was painful. In fact, it was almost too painful. It may have even been more painful than the actual pain Tiger Woods endured as he hobbled across the sloping, slippery terrain at Southern Hills Country Club in the third round of the PGA Championship.
I’ve watched Woods play countless rounds in person while covering him at the Buick Open and at several majors and two Ryder Cups. I’ve watched him playing hundreds of rounds on television. But when he shot 9-overpar 79 in the third round while limping on his right leg, still battered from a car wreck 15 months ago, I saw something I had never seen before.
I saw a man who had been defeated and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, with thousands of eyes watching every fruitless swing on a cold, windy, rainy Saturday in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
He shot 41 on the front nine and made five straight bogeys in the middle of the round while barreling toward an 80. I turned to my wife and said, “I bet he wants nothing more than to withdraw, except that he can’t.”
Indeed, Tiger had never withdrawn from a major as a pro. Part of that is pride and part of that is a professional obligation to his sponsors and his fans. Even when he had to play five rounds essentially on one leg at the 2008 U.S. Open at Torrey Pines, he didn’t withdraw. Of course, he was playing well and eventually won.
Southern Hills was a different story. Woods miraculously made the cut, even though his leg seemed to bother him more each round. That’s a credit to his famous mental and physical fortitude.
Then the third round came and Woods looked like a pale imitation of himself. The power and finesse that turned him into one of the game’s greatest player was gone. He looked like he could barely put any weight on his right foot, which is the anchor point for his swing.
After Tiger finished the third round, I turned off the TV. I felt sad for him and for golf. I imagined the chore ahead for him on Sunday, playing out the string in the final round without any hope of winning while wearing his classic red shirt, which might have to make up for the lack of red on his scorecard.
So he did the sensible thing and withdrew for the first time in a major. Brains won out over bravado.
But let’s go one step further. Tiger should also skip next month’s U.S. Open at The Country Club outside Boston, another hilly course bound to be brutally hard with deep rough that
won’t do his leg any favors. He should save his leg and his strength for the 150th British Open at St. Andrews, a flat course he loves, where he has won twice and where he won’t play again until he’s 51.
After playing in the British, Tiger should do one more thing. He should seriously consider retiring from golf.
I know. Some of you probably think that’s crazy because some of you probably think of Tiger as Superman, and who’s ever going to suggest that Superman hang up his cape?
But if you’ve watched Tiger Woods, if you’ve really carefully watched him over the past eight years, he’s simply not the otherworldly golfer we got used to seeing for so long. His record in tournaments and majors over this span doesn’t lie. Neither do his injuries, or his age.
Yep, Tiger’s only 46. But he’s an old 46, because he has countless more miles on his body than most 46-year-old golfers. Earl Woods had his son shooting 48 for nine holes when he was 3. Three. Years. Old.
Tiger was playing competitively at age 8. Jack Nicklaus didn’t even start playing golf until he was 10.
On top of all that, Tiger has had one of the most violent and torqued-up swings in the game, which has helped lead to five back surgeries and at least five knee surgeries.
Tiger will He’ll always have a chance at the Masters because of his savvy at Augusta National, like Bernhard Langer, and even at some British Open courses, the way Tom Watson nearly won at Turnberry when he was 59.
But Langer and Watson never had violent swings and they played relatively injury free throughout their careers. As good as Tiger has
been, Father Time remains undefeated in match play.
Tiger knows this. He hasn’t played anything close to a full schedule since 2019, and he even admitted at the PGA that he’s essentially semiretired now, without calling it that.
“I’m not going to be playing a lot of tournaments going forward,” he told reporters. “They’re going to be the biggest tournaments. I want to be able to play the major championships. I’ve always loved playing them.”
Tiger is tied with Sam Snead for a record 82 wins on the PGA Tour. A record that probably means little to him. He’s always said the only thing that matters to him are majors. It’s how greatness is judged in golf.
Honestly, I don’t expect Tiger to fully retire this year, or maybe even next. Frankly, I doubt Nike, Bridgestone, Rolex and his own “brand” would let the first billion-dollar athlete in sports quit that easily.
And I would hate to see Tiger retire. I would hate to never again see a miraculous 3-iron from a fairway bunker from 250 yards out land within a few feet of the hole. I’d hate to never see that imagination around the greens. The clutch birdie putts and the grinding 8-footers for par. The simple brilliance of a knock-down mid-iron into the wind.
Because once it’s gone, it’s gone forever. But I would hate to see something else even more. I would hate to see Tiger grimacing, round after disappointing round, because some things are just too painful to watch or endure.