Whatever happens with Tiger Woods’s recovery from his horrible Tuesday car crash, it is worth marveling, from a purely competitive standpoint, at one of the greatest athletic careers in the history of the modern world.
This has nothing to do with whether one likes Woods and nothing to do with the younger Woods’s character flaws or the older Woods’s admirable maturation. The appreciation due him does not depend on how one “ranks” him vis-à-vis golfing greats Ben Hogan, Bobby Jones, and Jack Nicklaus. Instead, it is simply a recognition that Woods’s golfing achievements were almost cinematic in their temporal pacing and their astonishing excellence.
Eleven years elapsed from Woods’s first professional major, at Augusta National in 1997, to the crowning glory of his unparalleled dominance, the 2008 U.S. Open. Another 11 years elapsed between then and the famous comeback for the ages, Woods’s victory at Augusta’s Masters in 2019. A screenwriter would not have scripted it differently than what real life provided.
The opening act, with flashbacks to Woods as child prodigy and amateur superstar, came at the 1997 Masters, where the rookie Woods played an atrocious first nine holes, eliciting nearly snide comments from Scottish star Colin Montgomerie, before playing the final 63 holes in 24 strokes under par for a gobsmacking 12-shot victory. No curtain-raiser in sports history has ever been as impressive. Not one.
Then, after a couple of years of figuring out what PGA Tour life was all about, Woods performed his still-most-unappreciated feat, the “Tiger Slam” wherein he held all four major titles at once — the only time in golf history this has ever been done. Beginning with his mind-boggling 15-stroke (!!!) victory in the 2000 U.S. Open at Pebble Beach, followed by his 8-stroke win in the British Open at St. Andrews, and a gritty PGA Championship playoff win at Nicklaus’s Valhalla club, he earned his Slam-clinching triumph in a battle with David Duval and Phil Mickelson at Augusta in 2001.
Once established, that dominance continued right through the U.S. Open at Torrey Pines in San Diego in 2008. After 11 years of “can-you-top-this?” moments, the first half of the Tiger movie built to a crescendo as he hobbled around the golf course, clearly in pain after arthroscopic surgery on his knee two months earlier. Yet as most of his competitors fell back, Woods found himself still alive, needing a 12-foot birdie putt on the final hole to force a playoff with consummate pro Rocco Mediate. Of course, Woods sank the putt — and then, after 18 more excruciating playoff holes the next day, birdied the 18th again to tie Mediate and extend the playoff to a 19th hole, or the 91st hole overall. And, by now grimacing in such pain that it was hard for viewers to watch, Woods, of course, won that one, too.
The “big reveal” came two days later, when Woods’s doctors said he had played with a double stress fracture in his leg and a torn anterior cruciate ligament. Both were on his left leg, the one that suffers the most stress in a golf swing. Almost nothing could top the improbability of winning the U.S. Open under those circumstances.
We know the rest of the story, the prototypical Hollywood fall from grace and the long, dark slog to emerge from the wreckage. Brought to earth by scandals and repeated surgeries, by pain and recovery and pain and recovery, the surly demigod became approachable, thoughtful to his peers, at times even winsome. So, 11 years later — 11 years without any new major titles — when a humbled Woods played smart while four competitors all crashed around him, he was able to tap in for his fifth Masters title and hug his son for all he was worth. This, this, was redemption. This, this, was joy.
For 22 years, with performances more breathtaking and sometimes incredible than anything seen before in his sport, Woods was the singular face of his sport in a way no athlete ever has been for so long.
Now, Woods lies, leg mangled, in a Los Angeles hospital. His career may or may not be finished. But, oh, what a career it has been. And, oh, what good he did along the way, even when his character was otherwise lacking, through his sincere and dedicated service to veterans and for children’s educational opportunities. Those activities are part of his public career, too, and worthy ones at that.
It is a career we all have been blessed to watch.
