It was, without need of useless embellishment or extended prose, one of the most impressive athletic achievements in recent memory — if not in the history of American sports. We’ll let others argue about golf’s merit as a sport and whether or not golfers qualify as athletes. Coming off his third knee surgery and after playing only one round in two months — and that from a cart — Tiger Woods put on the greatest performance of his career while fighting through pain so obvious he was often forced to turn $500 drivers into expensive walking sticks. The achievement became even more impressive in the days that followed.
Known to only a trusted few, Tiger played not only with a knee still weak from cartilage surgery but a torn ACL and double stress fracture in his tibia. To do all this while walking a straight line distance of 21.7 miles — and much farther after tracking down sprayed tee shots and the constant circling of the greens — makes Tiger 91-hole performance simply mind boggling.
A person could go broke quickly betting against Tiger, and even though doctors are predicting a full recovery, nothing is guaranteed. If Woods cannot return to his familiar form, the 37-hole battle with journeyman and good friend Rocco Mediate shifts from historical to legendary. Granted, the worst is unlikely to happen.
Tiger has no concerns about proper HMO coverage and his doctors will be talented and wealthy. But to say he’ll be dominant as ever with absolutely no ill effects would ignore the history of such injuries. It is true that many athletes have returned from serious knee injury, but many, if not most, come back forever changed.
Much like Frank Tanana, who once dominated hitters with pure speed only to be forced to learn the art of the breaking ball after injuries took away his strength, Tiger, upon his return, may have to change his swing to limit the massive amount of torque he puts on his newly reconstructed knee. The good news is that no one is more capable of making such a dramatic shift. He did that very thing four years ago to limit the stress on his knee and became an even better golfer.
So, for the time being, the news is relatively positive for the world’s No. 1 golfer. His tour, however, may not be so lucky.
No other sport’s success is so tied into a single person. It’s simple. As goes Tiger, so goes the PGA Tour. According to the New York Times, TV numbers a year ago dropped 29 percent when Woods took the week off. His presence means huge gates and great interest. A lack of Tiger sightings means greater disinterest. The tour must learn how to live without Woods a decade before it ever hoped.
Commissioner Tim Finchem has some selling to do. He needs to find a way to lure in a portion of Tiger’s massive audience. There is no way he’s going to get all of them and that’s going to be a challenge for a sport with a general household recognition of one athlete.
The tour is not without talent or interesting characters, as Rocco proved. It is, however, short of top-ranked Americans — and that’s what matters to the U.S. audience upon which the tour depends. Internationally, it will be easier. Phil Mickelson is immensely popular, but he’s one of only three Americans in the top 10 of the world golf rankings. The other is Jim Furyk.
An additional problem the tour must overcome is trying to convince the public that all future wins this year are not tainted by the absence of the man who will likely retain his top spot in the rankings even if he doesn’t tee it up until the spring of 2009. Mickelson, with three majors, will be able to escape such criticism but any member of the “best-to-have-never-won-a-major” will be doomed to the same second guessing and dismissals that the Houston Rockets received after winning two titles during Michael Jordan’s absence.
Tiger, like him or not, will be missed. No one generates greater buzz or makes more impossible shots than he. It is now the tour’s job to let you know the well is not dry. Good luck with that.
Sports fans love to hold onto their heroes even after their effectiveness has become a long-departed memory. After years of living vicariously through their athletic exploits, dealing with retirement talk can be difficult. It’s upsetting enough when the announcement comes after gray hair has replaced that of a darker hue. But when it comes amidst the prime of an athlete’s career, it’s just shocking.
Such is the case with Annika Sorenstam, this generation’s greatest female golfer and arguably the best ever, said that following this season she will give up the sport she’s dominated for more than a decade.
While women’s golf does not have the broad national impact of the NFL or Major League Baseball, Sorenstam’s decision to leave her sport at age 37 has a greater connection to early exits in those sports than to Justine Henin, who just became the first female tennis player to retire while ranked No. 1 in the world. Like Sandy Koufax and Jim Brown, who both aborted their respective careers at the age of 30, Sorenstam defines her sport and is the standard-bearer for all who come after. Just as every left-hander is compared to Koufax and each running back to Brown, any woman with talent and desire who comes along in the foreseeable future will be chasing the ghost of Sorenstam.
And if there is one more recent athlete who can appreciate what the 5-foot-6-inch Swede is giving up, it may be a 5-foot-8-inch former tailback from Wichita. Barry Sanders left the game when the pressure of defeat became a burden so great that it dwarfed any desire to chase immortality.
Minus an injury-filled 2007 in which she recorded only one victory, Sorenstam had no such concerns of mounting loses. But like Sanders, who gave up the game a season removed from claiming the all-time rushing title, Sorenstam has decided to leave within eyesight of topping Kathy Whitworth in wins and Patty Berg in majors.
Sorenstam achieved the rare feat of becoming a one-name celebrity — a surprising accomplishment for the reluctant star who, for most of her career, was uncomfortable in front of the camera, keeping to herself a smart and humorous personality that hid a burning desire to win.
Though she always said the right thing, Annika never took losses lightly. Each one just made her more determined to further distance herself from the competition and if victory meant putting some verbal pressure on an opponent, then so be it. Going into her 2007 playoff against Meaghan Francella, the young 25-year-old golfer asked the seasoned pro what ball she was hitting. Sorenstam’s intimidation-laden reply of “a Titleist 59” was not lost on the younger golfer. One of Annika’s greatest feats was her LPGA record round of 59 she shot in 2001.
Proof that the imposing legacy of the former world’s No. 1 has not waned was clearly evident when Sorenstam found herself in a playoff with Paula Creamer at this year’s Stanford Invitational Pro-Am. Creamer admitted that her hands shaking while putting on the first playoff hole. Sorenstam, unfazed, calmly sank the putt for her 71st LPGA win.
Over her 16-year career, Annika not only dominated her sport, but was perhaps the world’s most recognizable female athlete. She turned pro in 1992 and the next year was named the Ladies European Tour’s Rookie of the Year. A season later, now teeing it up on the LPGA Tour, she did the same. In her second year as a full-time member on the ladies’ toughest tour, Annika scored three wins and 12 top 10 finishes in 19 events while capturing her first Major and becoming the No. 1-ranked female golfer — a title she would claim eight more times in the following 11 years. She was also named LPGA Player of the Year after leading both the LPGA and European Tours’ winnings.
Over the next 13 years, she would win 69 more times on the LPGA Tour and claim nine more Majors. She was 22-11-4 in Solheim Cup matches, landed seven more Player of the Year honors, was the AP Female Athlete of the Year three times, she won an ESPY for the Best Female Golfer five times and, in 2005 and 2006, won two more ESPYs for Best Female Athlete.
Now, healthy, confident and with three wins in her first eight tournaments this year, she’s giving it up to start the family she’s wanted for several years and to watch over her ever-growing business interests, including her ANNIKA Academy, a blossoming golf course design business, stock and real estate investments.
Fellow Hall of Famer Nancy Lopez, who also left the game in her prime to start a family, said the business world is a poor substitute for the pure thrill of athletic competition — especially for someone as competitive as Annika or herself. Lopez eventually returned and no one should be surprised if in a half dozen years Sorenstam returns to reclaim what had been hers for the taking.
With six wins in his last seven starts, including a perfect three for three for 2008, talk has once again surfaced about Tiger’s place in history. And why not. Fresh off a year where he bagged seven wins and 12 top 10 finishes in 16 events, he’s successfully backed up his 2006 campaign that saw eight wins and two majors in 15 starts. He’s passed the King in victories and Walter Hagen in majors. He’s accomplished more in his 12 years on tour than any who has come before, and barring injury should finish with every record in the book — the Ryder Cup not withstanding. But, right now, is he better than the Golden Bear? To eliminate any unwarranted anticipation, the short answer is no.
For all his dominance, Tiger Woods is much like Kobe Bryant and LaBron James. At this point in their careers, both have accomplished more individually than the guy generally considered the best of all time. But until the tally becomes more complete, deference must be paid to the elders. Just as Bryant and James may some day be considered better than Michael Jordan, Woods may supplant Jack Nicklaus as the greatest to ever swing an iron. It’s just going to take time.
Woods himself called Nicklaus the greatest champion to have ever lived, following his idol’s retirement at the 2005 British Open. Tiger knows the history of his sport and never forgets to honor the past — except when he and others turned their backs on the Byron Nelson Classic upon the great man’s death. But there is a lot of merit behind Woods’ comment. The farther you dig into Nicklaus’ history, the more spectacular it becomes.
We all know of his 18 majors and two U.S. Amateur titles, but he also finished second 19 times and third nine times in the big events. That’s 46 top three finishes, and as we know, in golf, majors are everything. Woods has a total of 20 such finishes with 13 wins, four No. 2s and three No. 3s. If you want to track it even further, Jack had 73 top 10 finishes in majors compared to 27 for Woods. Nicklaus’ dominance gets a further push when considering he once finished among the top 10 in 13 straight majors. On another occasion he did so for nine straight. The best Tiger could manage was top 10 in six straight.
In all fairness to Woods, however, he did score five victories in those six tournaments. And while Tiger is only nine PGA wins behind Nicklaus, he trails in total career wins by 28 (115 to 87)
Many who argue in Tiger’s favor note, correctly, that he is playing in an era of heightened competition. Golfers today are more athletic and the field is deeper than ever. But while there are more good golfers today than at any time in the game’s history, the top five to 10 players of the Golden Bear’s hey-day were better than their counterparts today. Tiger’s top competitors, Phil Mickelson, Vijay Singh, Ernie Els, Jim Furyk, and maybe Retief Goosen and Sergio Garcia, are all immensely talented and capable of winning on any weekend. But, frankly, they don’t measure up. Jack’s list of Hall of Fame competitors — including Arnold Palmer, Gary Player, Lee Trevino, Tom Watson, Seve Ballesteros and Raymond Floyd — account for 39 majors and 185 PGA victories compared to 12 and 104 for Tigers’ pesky pals.
But, some may argue, it is because of Tigers’ dominance that the competition has done comparatively poor. No question Woods may be the most dominant athlete of any era, but others have to take some of that blame.
Although it is not publicly mentioned as often as in years past, there is a large segment of the tour that believe Tiger, when on his game, is all but unbeatable — a belief that Palmer, Player, Trevino and the like would never allow themselves to consider. Tiger wins as much by fear as he does with talent. Also, now that victories are no longer needed for financial stability, there is not much incentive to finish higher. When Palmer piled his wife and kids into a station wagon and headed out on tour, he did so to earn a living. Today, the goal seems to be keeping your tour card. A year ago 99 golfers made at least $1 million on the PGA while nearly the same amount (95) made more than $500,000 on the Nationwide Tour.
One day Tiger will be the best to have ever played the game. For now, the Golden Bear still rules.
