If scores keep falling for Woods, will anybody
hear?
By Frank Luksa
The Dallas Morning News
(KRT)
BETHESDA, - As Craig Smith disappeared up a flight of stairs
Thursday at Congressional Country Club, he turned to deliver a
promise rashly considered. "Stay where you are," he
directed a gathering of 30-35 newsmen. "I'll bring him back."
Oh, really.
Smith was in pursuit of Tiger Woods, who did not wish to be
brought back after shooting four-over 74 on the first round of
the U.S. Open. Woods wished not to be disturbed and so continued
his recent habit of playing Greta Garbo after a poor showing.
He vanted to be alone.
Smith is the USGA manager of media relations, whose duty is
to broker a detente between a golfer at a loss for words and media
that would like to know why. Especially when the guy hiding out
is the Masters champion, pre-Open favorite and the only person
on the planet still eligible to complete the elusive, if not impossible,
Grand Slam of major events.
"I'm sorry. We did the best we could," Smith said
when he reappeared about 20 minutes later.
"Where's Tiger?" a voice inquired.
Smith rose above the occasion to offer an exit line to rival
"Elvis has left the building." It will rank with Rhett's
farewell to Scarlett when he said, "Personally, my dear,
I don't give a fig."
"Tiger is in the car," Smith announced.
Tiger's exhaust had the effect of a chemical spill. It left
an odor. He wasn't asked to make a mass interview appearance at
the media center.
The request was to make a post-round stop before entering the
locker room. It's not asking much to spend five minutes lamenting
a bad day, after which a chap can plead need for privacy and leave.
In fact, it's great public relations that earns an athlete a reputation
for being a stand-up type in all sorts of weather.
Jack Nicklaus has that rep. So did Arnold Palmer. Greg Norman
spent 30 minutes reviewing his final-round swoon in the 1996 Masters.
Blue-blood champions in every sport are as classy in victory as
defeat.
Charlie Hough, the former Rangers' pitcher, was the best at
turning bad times to advantage. Asked to account for being knocked
out in the second inning, Charlie would say, "I stunk."
Which was what Woods should've said about his back-nine 40 and
post-round behavior after finishing nine shots behind first-round
leader Colin Montgomerie's 5-under 65.
Smith sensed Woods would remain in a private snit and had two
pool reporters representing print and radio gather wisdom from
the young phenom. It was not known whether they were required
to kneel. However, pool reporters were required to chase him to
a car in the parking lot, where he spoke from the passenger seat.
Some enchanting dialogue with the reluctant prodigy took place,
as these samples reveal:
Can you give us birdies and bogeys?
"No, it is too many."
What is going through your mind right now?
"You don't want to know."
What are you going to do now?
"I don't know."
I mean, you plan to hit balls or ...
"I don't know."
Do you feel like this has been something in your swing that
... .
"I don't know. I don't know."
Do you plan to talk to (coach) Butch Harmon tonight?
"I don't know. Is that it?"
No, it isn't. This was a repeat of the stunt Woods pulled after
losing the MasterCard Colonial to David Frost on the final round.
At Tiger's request, two newsmen with legitimate access were removed
from the players' locker room. Woods issued a few stale remarks,
and the next week at Memorial made a lame excuse for ducking give-and-take
questions. He said he didn't want intrude on Frost's moment -
a difficult feat with media interviews of Frost then being held
a quarter-mile distance from the clubhouse.
Thus we see the down side of Woods, cool and poised and agreeable
when the breeze blows his way. But he's felt crosswinds lately.
He lost Colonial on Sunday. He made a quintuple-bogey 9 en route
to missing the cut at Memorial. He shot 4 over with a double-bogey
water ball on the par-3 18th of a Congressional CC course experts
said had been designed with his longball game in mind.
Anyway, Woods left the site in a high fume without many aware
of his departure. Those who saw him go did notice one difference.
His halo had tilted off-center.
(Frank Luksa is a sports columnist for the Dallas Morning News.
Write to him at: Dallas Morning News, Communications Center, Dallas,
Texas 75265.)
(c) 1997, The Dallas Morning News.
Visit The Dallas Morning News on the World Wide Web at http://www.dallasnews.com/
Distributed by Knight-Ridder/Tribune Information Services.
|
