We are all Tiger Woods

My father traveled a fair amount when I was a young kid. When he would come home, he would bring me a baseball jersey from the town he had been in as a way of showing he had been thinking about me while he was away.

That’s how a kid from Indianapolis wound up in his front yard decked out in a full Toronto Blue Jays or Boston Red Sox uniform, strapping on catcher’s gear and repeatedly hitting whiffle balls until they all wound up in the crabapple tree in center field.

That front yard had a batter’s box worn into the grass and baselines that experienced home runs that won the World Series. I was the dominant player on teams that never lost and I always succeeded under pressure. That was the dream.

Up until 2008, the domination of Tiger Woods was the embodiment of that dream.

The 15-stroke win in the 2000 U.S. Open at Pebble Beach when nobody else was under par.

The 2006 British Open at Royal Liverpool where he only had to hit a driver once.

The win on one leg in the 2008 U.S. Open at Torrey Pines.

Watching someone who was so much better than his peers – who seemed like he could will his way to win at any time and never succumbed to pressure – was a reminder of who I wanted to be as a kid and played into the idea that if you are skilled enough at something, success is effortless.

I don’t think that dream applies to just me.

During that 2008 U.S. Open, I was at a conference at Columbia University. The tournament had gone to a playoff on a Monday that interfered with the conference. Instead of going and listening to speakers, a large contingent (including myself) was situated around a computer in the conference center lobby watching Tiger wince with each shot and pour in clutch putt after clutch putt.

But eventually, time wears on all of our dreams, Tiger Woods included. We get cut from the team in high school or college, we see someone who works less but is way more skilled advance, or we get done with school and realize that we’re a cog in a wheel rather than the agents of change that we envisioned ourselves to be when we were younger.

At some point, many of us settle. The sport you played, the book you always planned to write or the business you always wanted to start isn’t for you anymore, but for someone else.

It seemed like that time had come even for the great Tiger Woods.

His career was almost over two years ago. He had ruined his marriage with serial infidelity. He underwent spinal fusion surgery, a procedure that doesn’t guarantee a high quality of life, let alone the ability to swing a golf club. He then had an embarrassing DUI mugshot make the rounds while recovering from the surgery.

At that point, the criticism got louder and louder.

Those of us who are Florida fans admire Tim Tebow for his ability to do what he does in the face of critics who just think he should give up. Why risk embarrassment to try and reclaim something that seems unachievable?

Yet despite similar noise, Woods worked himself back to the point where he could pull out a victory at the Players Championship late last year and get himself into contention Sunday for the Masters.

In an poetic twist, this wasn’t a leaderboard where Woods intimidated young players who had never been there before. Instead, Woods beat Brooks Koepka, the player who bested him in 2018 at the PGA Championship. He also bested Francesco Molinari, the player who had stared down Woods in the final group of the 2018 U.S. Open and won.

And he authored a comeback at a major, something he never did even at the peak of his powers.

To me, this win for Woods had meaning well beyond his place in golf history or a 15th major championship. Instead, this was a reminder that life is worthwhile because true greatness is not about winning easily, but about overcoming significant obstacles and putting in the hard work even if it might not amount to anything; to filter out the noise and focus on the shot at hand rather than worrying about the consequences.

With the embarrassment of his scandals still lingering, a balky back and a bunch of younger players surrounding him, Woods was able to throw on his cape on a Sunday afternoon at Augusta. The symbolism of Woods embracing his son Charlie first after the win harkened back to the embrace of his father Earl after his initial win in 1997.

But none of that explains why fans were so excited about Woods pulling out the Masters win. He’s a golfer – not the most popular sport in the world – who has had character scandals that have sullied a well-manipulated reputation.

But that’s kind of the point.

As great as Tiger Woods is at golf, he’s still a flawed human being fighting his own demons just like the rest of us. And in some way, his win at the Masters is a call to filter out the critics and do something worthwhile when you have the ability even if you’re worried you’ll look foolish.

Otherwise, you’ll only be the person who decided that greatness was reserved for someone else.

Image used via Creative Commons license courtesy Chase McAlpine