Tiger Woods could force changes in the rules
by sheer dominance
By DAVID A. MARKIEWICZ / Fort Worth Star-Telegram
FORT WORTH, Texas - Tiger Woods had hardly smoothed the lapels
on his first green jacket when golf analysts began discussing
"changes" that might be necessary to keep the 21-year-old
prodigy from dominating the game for the next 20 years as he did
at the Masters Tournament last month.
Lengthen golf courses, some offered, to offset Woods' great
distance off the tee. Place a few bunkers further up the fairway,
within range of Woods' drives. Or tinker with the equipment a
bit - restrict golf-ball design and club technology so no pro
could hit it that much further than any other.
Officials at the U.S. Golf Association, the governing body
which, along with The Royal and Ancient in Great Britain, sets
the rules for golf around the world, were not moved by the frantic
arguments.
Said USGA spokesman Marty Parkes: "You don't change the
game for one person. When Wilt (Chamberlain) scored 100 points
in a (NBA basketball) game, they didn't raise the rim, did they?"
Well, no. But the dominance of certain individual star athletes
has, throughout history, caused changes in the rules of their
games.
In a bow to pro basketball's first superstar, Minneapolis Lakers
center George Mikan, the league widened the lane to the basket
from 6 feet to 12 feet in 1951-52. Mikan, because of his size
and strength, had become too dominant inside the narrower area.
It didn't help much. Mikan averaged 23.8 points, second in
the league, in 1951-52 and went to the NBA Finals, before losing
to the Knicks. The next year, he was second again in scoring and
the Lakers won the title.
The NBA even used a 12-foot-high basket for one game late in
the 1954 campaign, another reaction to Mikan.
And, though the NBA didn't permanently raise the basket for
Chamberlain, in 1964-65 it again widened the lane, to 16 feet,
to offset his dominance.
College basketball altered its playing rules to control big
men as well, scrapping the dunk in the 1967-68 season, an apparent
concession to (then-named) Lew Alcindor in his days at UCLA.
The change didn't keep Alcindor from leading UCLA to NCAA championships,
and it may even have helped him as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar in the
NBA. Elimination of the dunk prompted Abdul-Jabbar to develop
his killer "sky-hook" shot.
The NCAA restored the dunk for the 1976-77 season.
Historical evidence exists in many sports where individuals,
or, in some cases, groups of individuals, forced an alteration
in the rules of the game because of their performance dominance.
There was, for instance, the case of former Chicago Blackhawks
scoring star Bobby Hull. Known as the "Golden Jet,"
Hull was a dominant goal-producer in the NHL from 1959-60, when
he netted 39 goals, into the early 1970s.
Five times Hull broke the 50-goal mark, a not uncommon figure
today, but virtually unheard of in that era.
Hull possessed a wicked slap shot, made more fierce by the
degree to which he curved the blade of his stick. Hull bent his
stick blade to the point where it was referred to as a banana
blade. The fury of his 118-mph shot, combined with the sudden
dips and changes in direction produced by the heavily curved stick,
gave goaltenders nightmares.
In response, NHL officials in 1967 restricted the curve in
a hockey stick to 1-1/2 inches, but that did little to curb the
effect. Hull, who scored 52 goals in 1966-67, had 44 in 1967-68
and 58 more in 1968-69. So, in 1969, the curve was restricted
to 1 inch. But players who used the big curve kept scoring.
Finally, in 1970, the curvature was limited to a half-inch,
a restriction that stands today.
Baseball, too, has seen fit to make changes to restore competitiveness.
A prime example occurred after the 1968 baseball season, known
as "The Year of the Pitcher" because of the dominance
of pitching over hitting.
That season, the spectacular pitching events included Detroit's
Denny McLain winning 31 games, Cleveland's Luis Tiant flashing
a 1.60 earned-run average and the Los Angeles Dodgers' Don Drysdale
hurling 58 2/3 consecutive scoreless innings.
The biggest cause for change, though, might have been the performance
of St. Louis' intimidating Bob Gibson, who posted the best ERA
(1.12) in the National League since Mordecai "Three Finger"
Brown's 1.04 in 1906.
Baseball's brain trust, aghast at the lack of hitting - Boston
star Carl Yastrzemski led the American League with a .301 average
- reacted by lowering the height of the mound, giving pitchers
less leverage and less power in their delivery. The apex of the
mound was reduced by a third, from 15 inches to 10, and the slope
of the mound was changed as well. The strike zone also was reduced.
The new rules had the desired effect. The number of .300 hitters
nearly tripled in 1969, runs per game went from 6.8 to 8.1 and
the overall batting average jumped by more than 10 points.
It worked on Gibson, to a degree. His ERA went up a full run,
but that meant he finished 1969 with a 20-13 record and a 2.18
mark - which most pitchers would take.
Changing the game of golf could be a more difficult matter.
Woods-a-phobia focused on two key concerns. First, his awesome
length would reduce the competitive balance in professional golf.
And, second, it would render existing golf courses obsolete, particularly
some of the older ones, turning them into mere pitch-and-putt
tracks.
But the idea of lengthening courses is more complex than it
might sound. Many courses lack enough additional land for expansion,
for example. Then, too, there is the cost.
But perhaps the biggest reason to not lengthen a course is
that it would play longer for everyone, not just Woods. That may
ultimately give Woods an even greater advantage because he could
still reach par 5s, whereas other long hitters might no longer
be able to.
Adding bunkers is an accepted means to change a course and
increase its difficulty, and placing hazards further along holes
would add not only to Woods' problems but those of all longer
hitters. Of course, were Woods to hit the ball straight, bunkers
would not come into play.
In the end, USGA officials say, it is up to individual course
operators whether they want to make such alterations.
As for technology restrictions, any changes to balls or clubs
would, presumably, affect an entire field, and, therefore, not
handicap Woods any more than any other golfer.
For these reasons, perhaps, golf's watchdogs appear content
to wait and observe Woods rather than attempt to alter the game
to level the playing field.
That attitude hasn't stopped touring pros from offering their
thoughts, some serious, on how to contain Woods.
Jesper Parnevik suggested courses create "Tiger Tees"
50 yards back from the teeing areas used by other pros. Seve Ballesteros
recommended Woods play a larger ball. Bernhard Langer liked the
idea of the "Tiger Bunkers" set up further down each
hole.
Golf's caretakers argue that the furor over Woods' performance
is really nothing new, however. They say it's just a different
player making the same headlines.
"You'd be hard-pressed to think of a time in golf when
there wasn't this kind of talk," said Frank Hannigan, former
executive director of the USGA, now an analyst for ABC and 'Golf
Digest' magazine.
He and others point to concerns raised when Bobby Jones dominated
his competitors en route to a Grand Slam and how a young Jack
Nicklaus raised concerns when he whipped the Masters field by
nine strokes and shot 271 in 1965.
Those records stood until Woods broke them.
"The end result is that Tiger lowered the existing record
by one shot," said Hannigan, referring to Woods' 270 total
and 12-stroke margin. "That doesn't seem like the sky is
falling in terms of score."
Eli Callaway, whose company, Callaway Golf, is a leader in
club manufacturing, also offered a sense of historical perspective.
"The Tiger phenomenon and his remarkable ability is a
repeat of what happened with Bob Jones," Callaway said. "In
relation to his fields at the time, he was just as different and
remarkably superior as Tiger Woods is today. And when Jack Nicklaus
came along, he set a whole new standard, too.
"I don't think there's any need for significant alterations
of clubs, balls or courses because of Tiger Woods. This is about
genius and being an exceptional human being. If everybody starts
playing like Tiger Woods, than maybe we should start lengthening
the courses."
The USGA's top rules maker, Frank Thomas, has, Hannigan noted,
observed that "the real challenge is to cut 15 to 20 yards
off Tiger, and keep everybody else the same."
Hannigan offers this thought about Woods: "The kid may
very well be a genius. Now, what do you do about that?"
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