Post by raleighrebel on May 28, 2008 12:17:00 GMT -5
msn.foxsports.com/golf/story/8184922/Tiger's-injury-has-exposed-his-would-be-rivals
Even with a surgically altered knee and enough rust to cover a garage full of old wedges, Tiger Woods will be fully expected to win the U.S. Open. This is a testament to Tiger's greatness.
It's also an indictment of Tiger's tour.
Phil Mickelson, Sergio Garcia, and Adam Scott all won in Woods' absence, and yet their victories did little to suggest that Tiger has a defining rival on his tail.
Let's face it: Woods could step onto the first tee at Torrey Pines wearing a full leg cast and neck brace — with John Daly strapped to his back — and he'd still be favored to win his 14th major championship, breaking his tie with Bobby Jones and leaving him all alone with the Bear, Jack Nicklaus, out on a limb with his record 18.
Scott looked movie-star good winning the Byron. Sergio nearly convinced you he could seize a Grand Slam event by grabbing a quasi-major, the Players Championship, by the throat.
And Phil made one of his magical, mystery shots to win at Colonial, the kind of over-the-fruit-trees, over-the-house, onto-the-kidney-shaped green approaches he practiced in his backyard as a kid.
But did any of this change the perception of the PGA tour as a forum for one otherworldly star and a maddening procession of flawed competitors who cower in his wake?
Hardly.
Asked if it was fair to be considered the U.S. Open favorite despite his extended absence, Woods said, "Fair or not fair, it doesn't really matter . . . My whole idea is obviously to have the lowest score at the end of the week. I will do everything I can to be ready like I am for each and every other major."
Woods was speaking Tuesday at a news conference to promote his tournament, the AT&T National, in July. It was good to see him, frankly, as the tour takes on the feel of a junior varsity jamboree when Tiger's on the bench.
He hasn't played a competitive round since Sunday at the Masters, a tournament he played in pain. Woods knew his left knee needed a date with a surgeon's blade. He figured he could gut out another green jacket, check into the hospital, and emerge in time to win his fourth Memorial tournament title as a tuneup for Torrey Pines, where he won after surgery on the same knee six years back.
It didn't play out that way. Trevor Immelman was the better man at Augusta, and Woods couldn't get healthy in time to play Nicklaus' Memorial. He'll go stone cold into the Open, the major he hasn't won since 2002, and he'll do so in a diminished state.
Woods was seen walking into his news conference with something of a limp. "Knee is doing better," he assured. "The rehab is working. It gets really old riding that bike, man. But everything is on schedule. Just trying to get this thing organized for the Open. Right on schedule for that."
Right on schedule to do what he couldn't in 2006, when Woods missed the cut at Winged Foot after the death of his father. Tiger was dealing with severe emotional trauma then. This is different. This is a physical breakdown managed by a man who doesn't suffer them easily.
"I miss it," Woods said of his lifeblood, the competition. "I miss mixing it up with the boys. I miss the heat of being in there, in contention with everything on the line, trying to pull off a shot. That's fun to me . . . That's what I love to do.
"I'm really looking forward to the Open and getting out there and mixing it up with the boys again."
The boys. Funny, but Tiger doesn't have much use for the boys around the clubhouse. He doesn't fraternize with them, doesn't let them get too comfortable or close.
Tiger knows his aura of intimidation is the most reliable club in his bag. This is a trick he learned from Nicklaus, who never spent much locker room time telling back-slapping beer stories with opponents the way Arnold Palmer did.
Jack would just magically appear on the driving range, lash into a dozen balls, then stare a hole through you on the first tee box with those icy blue eyes.
But Nicklaus' top challengers were tougher to rattle than Tiger's. Palmer, Gary Player, Lee Trevino and Tom Watson combined to win 30 majors on Jack's watch. Trevino and Watson each holed out ridiculous chips — Trevino at the British in '72, Watson at Pebble in '82 — to break the poor Bear's heart.
Now these were real rivals, contenders who were worthy Fraziers to Nicklaus' Ali. Where's Tiger's Frazier? Where's the man who can carry the sport when Woods is out with an injury?
Tough question, easy answer: That man doesn't exist. Mickelson had his chance to be that rival on the 72nd hole at Winged Foot, where a simple two-putt par would've given him three consecutive majors in the middle of Tiger's prime. But Phil bounced his drive off a hospitality tent, failed to saw a tree in half on his second shot, and double bogeyed his way into a nightmare of near Van de Veldeian proportions.
Mickelson's tie for fifth at last month's Masters was his first top-15 finish in a major since that Open meltdown. Like Tiger, he's been a big winner at Torrey Pines. Unlike Tiger, Mickelson is healthy as he bids to finally win the national championship.
But that hasn't stopped Woods from hobbling into pole position. Mickelson still has to prove he's liberated himself from his Winged Foot demons by winning a fourth major. Sergio? He's got to prove he can win one major, never mind four. Scott? He needs to establish himself as something other than the PGA Tour's answer to Anna Kournikova.
They've all won Tiger-free events since Woods went under the knife, but they've done nothing to dent his shield of invincibility. That can only happen on a Grand Slam stage, where the game has seen a memorable one-man show.
Immelman, Zach Johnson, Angel Cabrera and Rich Beem are the nothing-to-lose players who've beaten Woods down the stretch of big ones. Only nobody would ever confuse Immelman, Johnson, Cabrera and Beem with Player, Palmer, Trevino and Watson.
Golf would be better served if one of its second-tier stars got in Tiger's face and stayed there for the next five years. Until and unless that happens, the tour will remain a hopeless band of Washington Generals, and Woods can do all the one-legged Globetrotting he wants.
Even with a surgically altered knee and enough rust to cover a garage full of old wedges, Tiger Woods will be fully expected to win the U.S. Open. This is a testament to Tiger's greatness.
It's also an indictment of Tiger's tour.
Phil Mickelson, Sergio Garcia, and Adam Scott all won in Woods' absence, and yet their victories did little to suggest that Tiger has a defining rival on his tail.
Let's face it: Woods could step onto the first tee at Torrey Pines wearing a full leg cast and neck brace — with John Daly strapped to his back — and he'd still be favored to win his 14th major championship, breaking his tie with Bobby Jones and leaving him all alone with the Bear, Jack Nicklaus, out on a limb with his record 18.
Scott looked movie-star good winning the Byron. Sergio nearly convinced you he could seize a Grand Slam event by grabbing a quasi-major, the Players Championship, by the throat.
And Phil made one of his magical, mystery shots to win at Colonial, the kind of over-the-fruit-trees, over-the-house, onto-the-kidney-shaped green approaches he practiced in his backyard as a kid.
But did any of this change the perception of the PGA tour as a forum for one otherworldly star and a maddening procession of flawed competitors who cower in his wake?
Hardly.
Asked if it was fair to be considered the U.S. Open favorite despite his extended absence, Woods said, "Fair or not fair, it doesn't really matter . . . My whole idea is obviously to have the lowest score at the end of the week. I will do everything I can to be ready like I am for each and every other major."
Woods was speaking Tuesday at a news conference to promote his tournament, the AT&T National, in July. It was good to see him, frankly, as the tour takes on the feel of a junior varsity jamboree when Tiger's on the bench.
He hasn't played a competitive round since Sunday at the Masters, a tournament he played in pain. Woods knew his left knee needed a date with a surgeon's blade. He figured he could gut out another green jacket, check into the hospital, and emerge in time to win his fourth Memorial tournament title as a tuneup for Torrey Pines, where he won after surgery on the same knee six years back.
It didn't play out that way. Trevor Immelman was the better man at Augusta, and Woods couldn't get healthy in time to play Nicklaus' Memorial. He'll go stone cold into the Open, the major he hasn't won since 2002, and he'll do so in a diminished state.
Woods was seen walking into his news conference with something of a limp. "Knee is doing better," he assured. "The rehab is working. It gets really old riding that bike, man. But everything is on schedule. Just trying to get this thing organized for the Open. Right on schedule for that."
Right on schedule to do what he couldn't in 2006, when Woods missed the cut at Winged Foot after the death of his father. Tiger was dealing with severe emotional trauma then. This is different. This is a physical breakdown managed by a man who doesn't suffer them easily.
"I miss it," Woods said of his lifeblood, the competition. "I miss mixing it up with the boys. I miss the heat of being in there, in contention with everything on the line, trying to pull off a shot. That's fun to me . . . That's what I love to do.
"I'm really looking forward to the Open and getting out there and mixing it up with the boys again."
The boys. Funny, but Tiger doesn't have much use for the boys around the clubhouse. He doesn't fraternize with them, doesn't let them get too comfortable or close.
Tiger knows his aura of intimidation is the most reliable club in his bag. This is a trick he learned from Nicklaus, who never spent much locker room time telling back-slapping beer stories with opponents the way Arnold Palmer did.
Jack would just magically appear on the driving range, lash into a dozen balls, then stare a hole through you on the first tee box with those icy blue eyes.
But Nicklaus' top challengers were tougher to rattle than Tiger's. Palmer, Gary Player, Lee Trevino and Tom Watson combined to win 30 majors on Jack's watch. Trevino and Watson each holed out ridiculous chips — Trevino at the British in '72, Watson at Pebble in '82 — to break the poor Bear's heart.
Now these were real rivals, contenders who were worthy Fraziers to Nicklaus' Ali. Where's Tiger's Frazier? Where's the man who can carry the sport when Woods is out with an injury?
Tough question, easy answer: That man doesn't exist. Mickelson had his chance to be that rival on the 72nd hole at Winged Foot, where a simple two-putt par would've given him three consecutive majors in the middle of Tiger's prime. But Phil bounced his drive off a hospitality tent, failed to saw a tree in half on his second shot, and double bogeyed his way into a nightmare of near Van de Veldeian proportions.
Mickelson's tie for fifth at last month's Masters was his first top-15 finish in a major since that Open meltdown. Like Tiger, he's been a big winner at Torrey Pines. Unlike Tiger, Mickelson is healthy as he bids to finally win the national championship.
But that hasn't stopped Woods from hobbling into pole position. Mickelson still has to prove he's liberated himself from his Winged Foot demons by winning a fourth major. Sergio? He's got to prove he can win one major, never mind four. Scott? He needs to establish himself as something other than the PGA Tour's answer to Anna Kournikova.
They've all won Tiger-free events since Woods went under the knife, but they've done nothing to dent his shield of invincibility. That can only happen on a Grand Slam stage, where the game has seen a memorable one-man show.
Immelman, Zach Johnson, Angel Cabrera and Rich Beem are the nothing-to-lose players who've beaten Woods down the stretch of big ones. Only nobody would ever confuse Immelman, Johnson, Cabrera and Beem with Player, Palmer, Trevino and Watson.
Golf would be better served if one of its second-tier stars got in Tiger's face and stayed there for the next five years. Until and unless that happens, the tour will remain a hopeless band of Washington Generals, and Woods can do all the one-legged Globetrotting he wants.