Tiger Woods changes landscape of golf
By Jeff Babineau /The Orlando Sentinel
ORLANDO, Fla. -- Dr. T.J. Dorsey, who planted seeds for the
Orlando Minority Youth Golf Association when he guided a handful
of ambitious youngsters onto a vacant field at the Central Florida
Fairgrounds in 1991, was standing near the edge of the putting
green at Dubsdread Golf Course the other day, watching a tiny
4-year-old roll putts.
One ball bounded across the green and dived to the bottom of
the cup. As it fell, the youngster, to nobody in particular, smiled
and mouthed the following words: "I'm Tiger Woods."
"Cutest thing you've ever seen," Dorsey said.
Similar scenes play out in Los Angeles and Chicago and New
York each day, featuring children of all sizes, shapes and colors.
Who isn't Tiger Woods? Grandmothers are trading in knitting needles
to watch him on weekends, record crowds are turning up to view
PGA Tour events, and the game's television ratings are higher
than ever.
The fairways at tournaments are lined with children no taller
than the gallery ropes. Merchandise racks are being emptied by
the weekend rounds. Children are as apt to try swinging a cut-down
golf club as a baseball bat.
Golf, the lily-white sport once reserved for doctors on Wednesday
afternoons at the stodgy club, has become so, well, cool. One
man has ushered the game into society's mainstream.
The landscape of golf has changed dramatically since this exact
day one year ago, when a 20-year-old by the name of Eldrick Woods,
days after winning his third U.S. Amateur, stepped to a podium
in Milwaukee to announce he was passing up his junior year at
Stanford to become a professional golfer.
Woods tied for 60th that first week at the Greater Milwaukee
Open, earning $2,544. With seven PGA Tour events left on the '96
schedule, there was speculation he was going to have a difficult
time earning enough money to finish among the top 125 players
and earn a tour card for 1997. Nike was an industry laughingstock
for shelling out $40 million on a 5-year endorsement contract.
Who's laughing now? Who knew?
In one year, Woods has won six PGA Tour events in 25 starts.
One week he was standing next to the winner's trophy in Las Vegas
surrounded by showgirls; another found him next to a trophy in
Orlando flanked by Mickey and Tigger. By April, he had scaled
his way to the top, slipping on the prized green blazer worn by
the champion at the Masters Tournament. Forty million people tuned
in to watch him play the final round.
"I think golf was cresting anyway, and the wave was building,"
said Michael McPhillips, tournament director of the Oldsmobile/Walt
Disney World Classic in Orlando, where Woods is expected to defend
his '96 title in two months. "Once Tiger came aboard, it
truly became high tide.
"Not only does he cross ethnic lines, but generational
lines as well. The ripple effect of how his presence has affected
every facet of this game, it's pretty incredible."
There is a price to pay for fame, and Woods, a conglomerate
on spikes whose net worth has soared to more than $100 million,
has paid. At the age of 21, he has made mistakes, and he readily
admits he is trying to learn from them.
In the searing heat of the public eye, he simply is not allowed
to have bad days at his office. Imagine skipping an awards dinner
only to have tens of thousands of people stuff your actions down
your throat.
Sports megastars such as Michael Jordan and Ken Griffey Jr.
were given more time than Woods was allotted in his ascent. The
new Pied Piper is expected to have an opinion on everything from
race relations to the National League West to supermodels.
In reality, we forget that Woods is 21 and could be preparing
for his senior year at Stanford. For lunch one day at the PGA
Championship, he dined on a huge plate of french fries. After
golf, he had planned to go see "Air Force One."
"Kids' movie," Woods reasoned, smiling.
"He's so young," Dorsey said. "I don't think
you, I, or anyone could have predicted the impact that Tiger has
had. The kids adore him. Even when he doesn't win, he's winning."
Hopefully, Woods will be able to enjoy the incredible ride
ahead.
"Something has happened here that is almost mystical in
a sense," Dorsey said."It seems to be divinely ordered."
With fries, of course.
(Jeff Babineau is a sports columnist for the Orlando Sentinel.
Write to him at: Orlando Sentinel, 633 North Orange Avenue, Orlando,
Fla. 32801)
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