| AP Sports Headlines |
Friday, July 19, 2002
By Skip Bayless
Knight Ridder Newspapers
They finally had their chance. Any one of the dozen or so players with the game to beat Tiger Woods in the British Open could have thrown a first-round 63 at him, opened a seven-shot lead, made him even more jumpy than he was on Thursday's first tee and finally made him feel a strange sensation.
Pressure.
But predictably, none of these toothless Tigers took full advantage of a rare warm, windless day and Woods' cool putter. Woods' 1-under 70 left him only three shots out of the lead. In tropical conditions made for caging a Tiger, Woods and his Grand Slam bid eluded capture.
The big news was what did not happen. After losing his opening tee shot to the right, then losing his temper in the knee-high rough, Woods did not effectively lose the British Open. Nor did any of his cowering rivals put themselves in position to win it. No course-record round from Phil Mickelson or Ernie Els or Sergio Garcia. No sweat for Woods.
As usual, he has them right where he wants them.
As co-leader David Toms said with regret: "We'll probably never see another day like this in Scotland."
Aye, laddie. Toms knew his 67 could have been a 63 - just as Woods' 70 could have been a 64. Woods' putts burned more lips than the hot cocoa sold on a typically wintry British Open morning. He missed six of seven for birdies inside 18 feet. Now watch them start dropping.
Woods left the castle gate open, but all the pretenders stopped at the mote, waiting for the Loch Ness Tiger to rear his head. Yes, Mickelson leads Woods by two, but Mickelson played in the afternoon when Muirfield was even more toothless.
Paradise lost. Now comes the chilly rain forecast for today, followed by weekend winds whipping off the North Sea.
"I've always enjoyed playing in tougher conditions," Woods said. Wind-chilled rain ensures that no Toms, Dick or Harry throws a weekend 63 at him.
So it once more appears that no near-great player will help validate Woods' greatness in a major championship. No Mickelson, Els or Garcia will open a commanding lead, as Lee Trevino did on Jack Nicklaus at Muirfield in 1972. The Golden Bear roared on Sunday, shooting 66. But he lost his Slam by a stroke after bogeying No.16.
Woods has been winning majors so easily that it almost feels like he could purchase his Grand Slam at Denny's. How would he react having to come from five shots back on Sunday? His only memorable major challenge, at the 2000 PGA, came from player whose game and credibility have drifted into obscurity. Where have you gone, Bob May?
Now, I'm rooting for Woods to win this British by eight or 10 so the pressure will pile up like January snow in Minneapolis ahead of August's PGA at nearby Hazeltine. If no player is capable of helping prove Woods is the best golfer ever, this event could.
Woods is kidding himself if he thinks the "seven months of pressure" he experienced before winning the "Tiger Slam" was anything like the heat he would feel before trying to win the last jewel of a genuine Slam. Winning the last three majors of 2000, then the first (the Masters) of 2001, was an astonishing achievement. But it was not a same-year Slam.
No doubt Woods drove himself to win a split-year Slam that most golf writers and commentators would not acknowledge. But most media members did not fan the pre-Masters flames with breathless anticipation.
Now they would. Especially if Woods runs away with the British Open, the PGA would be preceded by world-wide, Super Bowl-style buildup. But the hype wouldn't be split between two teams. It would be focused like a laser on one man. It would be fascinating - and validating - to see if Woods would melt under it.
Forget Mickelson, Garcia and Els. This would be Tiger against his nerves. Overcoming them would remove the cruel but valid asterisk attached to winning this year's first three majors.
No competition.
Woods clearly was feeling more pressure than usual as he addressed Thursday's opening tee shot. He didn't pull the trigger nearly as quickly as usual, and an over-eager photographer clicked his camera. Woods backed away. He took his stance again, heard another click and backed away. When he finally swung, his 2 iron sent a sickly fade deep into the rough.
The lie was so treacherous that Woods thought he was squinting at a double bogey. Again he stood longer than usual over the shot. Another click interrupted his jittery focus. He wheeled and snapped: "Haven't you guys taken enough friggin' pictures already?"
But Woods gathered himself and hit what might have been the tournament-saving shot. His 60-degree wedge slashed like a sickle through the heather and sent his ball 120 yards down the fairway.
"I could have hit it a foot," he said. "I don't know how I did it."
Another wedge and a 10-foot putt gave him a par. As usual, Woods had overcome his only competition, himself. The PGA might finally provide an all-time worthy challenge.
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© 2002, San Jose Mercury News (San Jose, Calif.).
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