After watching the dismal performance of Tiger Woods at Quail Hollow; a performance followed by a withdrawal from the Player’s Championship yesterday and preceded by an anti-climactic, fourth-place finish at the Masters, something jarring occurred to me. (And I know what you’re thinking; but I’m sorry, a fourth-place finish for Tiger Woods, regardless of the circumstances, cannot be considered even a moral victory.)
This is not the same Tiger Woods, and I think I know why... Therapy.
In his post catastrophe interviews, he has talked extensively about his therapy and rehabilitation experience. About what he has learned after taking a hard look at himself, returning to his Buddhist roots, meditating, getting back to being a more spiritual person and the work required to repair his humanity. He spoke with a quiet demeanor and sullen, downcast eyes. After watching the unveiling of this new Tiger Woods I couldn’t help but feel like I was watching a champion Pit Bull Terrier, who had once dominated and terrified the other dogs on the block, returning from the veterinarian. Wobbly-legged. Groggy from anesthesia…. Neutered.
You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
What I think is becoming apparent is the fact that Tiger’s unprecedented success on the PGA Tour over the last dozen years has been the result of more than just his prodigious physical gifts. There is something that drives him that the average person, not only can’t relate to, but can’t even imagine. After watching the first few years of Tiger’s career I started thinking to myself that, “Jeez, this guy’s like the Michael Jordan of golf!” But as I’ve witnessed his entire career, I’m more of a mind that Michael Jordan may have been the Tiger Woods of basketball. Yeah. It’s like that. I mean we’re talking about a guy who would not only go into a Major Championship as the favorite, but a favorite against the field! That should be impossible. Which brings me to my point. We expect the impossible from Tiger Woods. In fact, we demand it. And he delivers. But the kind of insatiable drive to be the best, to win everything, to conquer everyone, to destroy everything in your path and take no prisoners, to be the best of all-time, all the time and have world-class competitors simply fall apart at the sight of you, comes with a dark side.
This was not just a fire that burned inside Tiger Woods. It’s was an acetylene torch. And it did not have an on/off switch. It just doesn’t work like that.
I don’t believe that there is such thing as sex addiction. And the American psychiatric community agrees with me. The fact of the matter is that men are biologically engineered to be horny. Really horny. And most men will have sex in direct proportion to the number of opportunities they are given to have sex. So I guess if there is such a thing as a sex addiction it would be manifested by the presence of a penis.
But here’s the rub-- 121 mistresses??? And while many guys might think they are capable of such a feat, try pulling that off while being married with children and being one of the most recognizable faces in the world under the unsparing, unflinching glow of an international spotlight. I mean, my god! That would almost be as hard as winning a major championship with torn ligaments in your knee.
What I’m about to say is probably not going to be much of a news flash, but here goes-- Tiger Woods is not like us. At least he wasn’t before he was taken to the vet. Uhhh… I mean rehab. We must consider that the same ultra-intense aspects of his psyche and personality that drove his unparalleled success as a professional athlete, were also responsible for his jaw-dropping personal behavior. And if this is really a serious attempt on Tiger’s part to transform profound aspects of his personality and his behavior and not just a damage-controlling P.R. stunt, then the Tiger Woods we had come to know may be a thing of the past.
So Jack Nicklaus and his 18 Major Championships may be able to rest easy.
And so can “the field.”