Just wait until Tiger's a Senior
By Mark Whicker
Orange County Register
(KRT)
AUGUSTA, Ga. - Arthur Williams, serving lunch in the clubhouse,
watched the TV and saw the beginning of the longest victory lap
in sports.
"He's gonna take it easy on 'em today," Arthur said.
"He's been rocking and rolling, but he's gonna take it easy
today."
Arthur, like the rest of us, is just getting to know Tiger
Woods.
Tiger has this thing about unfinished business. He's against
it.
He set a personal record for smiles and high-fives in his last
tour of Augusta National, but his heart was pure titanium. He
had actually won his first Masters on Saturday. Now he had records
to break.
The 72-hole record of 271, set by Jack Nicklaus 32 years ago,
tied by Raymond Floyd 21 years ago? Woods eclipsed it with a birdie
on 14 and parred in for 270.
The victory margin record of nine, set by Nicklaus in '65?
Woods had that one bagged when he parred No. 12.
Arnold Palmer's record for back-nine scoring - 12-under, in
1964? Woods was 13-under after Saturday and eased in at 16-under.
And the youngest Masters champ? Seve Ballesteros used to be,
having won the '80 event at age 23. Tiger will be 23 when he plays
in '99.
In 13 pro starts, he has four victories and seven finishes
in the top three.
And he was so enthralled by it all that when he got to 18 and
found the world at his feet, his only thought was, "Boy,
this is a tough putt I've got."
Did you think you'd never live long enough to see a black man
win the Masters? Tiger is a young man in a hurry. He looked out
for you.
"My dad told me this would be my toughest round, but at
the end it would be my most rewarding," Woods said. "My
goal was not to make a bogey. If I made 18 pars, somebody was
going to have to shoot 63 to take me into a playoff."
What happened was that Tiger completed what is certainly the
best 63-hole stretch run in U.S. major championship history.
On Thursday he was four-over as he went to the 10th tee. From
then on he was 22-under. You know the old saying - the Masters
doesn't begin until the last nine holes Thursday.
"My thought after nine Thursday was to get back to par,"
he said. "I knew I had some par-fives I could birdie on the
back side. I got my swing straightened out and I tried to ingrain
that thought. I held it the rest of the week."
When a 21-year-old icon surpasses even himself, you pause before
you predict. Woods honestly thinks he not only can, but should,
win any tournament. It's a dreadful waste otherwise.
Not even the racial component seems a burden. Woods nearly
choked up when he talked about Lee Elder, and he said he hopes
his victory influences the kids, that the Masters can somehow
mean "golf is cool."
"I don't care what race he is," Tom Kite said. "He's
a golfer. He's a champion. He's a nice kid. His parents did a
hell of a job with him. He's a pleasure to have in our sport."
Elder showed up Sunday, as a guest of Augusta National chairman
Jack Stephens. On a cloudy Thursday morning in 1975, Elder walked
to the first tee with trembling hands. He was the first black
to play in the Masters, and as he and Gene Littler heard the applause,
the sky unaccountably brightened.
That was a generation ago in the South, and the galleries that
day were thick with police. But the applause for Elder was consistent,
if dutiful. Elder shot 74 that day and 78 the next day, and missed
the cut. Later, Jim Thorpe and Jim Dent would play Augusta, and
Elder would again.
"But after today," Elder said proudly, "a black
man can walk to the tee here and nobody will think twice."
In the late '90s, color has faded. The most popular man in
America is Michael Jordan. The most popular politician, or potential
one, is Colin Powell.
There still is hate and prejudice. Until robots replace us,
there always will be. But the crowds were in Tiger's pocket all
week here, firing him up as he walked from green to tee, even
though his brilliance had denied them a real tournament to watch.
Elder walked with Tiger to the first tee Sunday and told him
how proud he was.
In truth, Tiger's story shares little with Elder's.
Want to read about an American hero who lifted himself from
hunger and the backfiring gasoline carts of dirt-track public
golf? You already have. It was written by Lee Trevino, a man who
felt at home at almost every golf course except this one. He would
not even change his shoes in Augusta's clubhouse.
Even Jack Nicklaus had it tougher when he came onto the tour.
He was young and gifted like Woods, but he was also bulky and
diffident, and he was in the process of shooting down the flight
of an American hero, Arnold Palmer. No one remembers the hostile
galleries, the "Hit It Here, Jack" signs in the trees.
Nicklaus wasn't forgiven, let alone admired, until the mid-'70s.
Woods, in fact, has walked through conservative realms. His
father was a retired Army lieutenant colonel. He grew up in Orange
County and spent three years at Stanford. He did not have to be
a crusader or a symbol. He could play golf.
He does not represent social change; he benefits from it.
What he does represent is the confluence of genius, commitment
and imagination, tuned to perfect pitch.
Tiger Woods is not just bigger than life, but hype. He becomes
eligible for the Senior Tour in 2026; maybe he'll take it easy
on 'em then.
|
