Tiger-Proof the Masters? How to.

Note: April 4, 2012: If you like the post below, I have just posted two other Tiger Woods posts you might also enjoy:  Tiger’s Back To The Future At The 2012 Masters Tournament, and 3 Quick & Easy Charts Of Tiger Woods’ Ball Striking, Putting, And Accuracy Improvements Since 2009. Each link will open in a new window. For now, here’s my 2009 post:

April 4, 2009.

My Rite of Spring. I’m about to immerse myself in my favorite rite of Spring, watching the Masters Tournament, televised in HD from Georgia’s Augusta National Golf Club. And no, to me anyway, watching golf is not akin to watching paint dry. It’s even more than that. It’s a glimpse into athletic ability of the highest order, married to a pace that allows one a chance to savor.

And no, I am not anymore a golfer, whose primary interest in watching golf is to pick up swing tips. I was once afflicted with golf when a teenager, and showed some promise until my golf hero, Arnold Palmer, ruined my swing. I’m 59, so my experience with golf began in those magical years when Arnold dominated the scene, even when, to Jack’s eternal chagrin, Jack Nicklaus was winning more often. Arnold was golf then. In those years of my mid-youth, his swing, with its animal energy and outrageous form, dominated my golf dreams. I decided at some point that I needed to add 30 or 40 yards to my drives, and Arnold was my model. The video below will show you what I was crazily trying to emulate . . .

A few years later now the owner of a swing completely ruined, I learned that Arnold’s swing was Arnold’s swing, a once in a generation gift of timing, strength, and audacity that was all Arnold and only Arnold. I struggled on with the golfer’s most obvious sign of ineffectiveness, a massive slice, until I could take it no more. I absolutely hate taking part in an athletic event where I absolutely positively beyond redemption stink. It took years to finally put it to rest, mind you. I tried golf schools, golf books, golf instruction, golf prayers, golf novenas. In the end, decades ago, I realized that God, and man, did not want me to play golf, and one day finally realized my quest to fix my swing had ended when I found myself using one of my golf clubs as a gardening tool. Believe me, a smile crossed my face. I’d been delivered.

The Mastery of the Masters. Yet, my love of the game and its lore only increased. Having failed to master it, it mastered me. I knew by experience the exceptional athletic skill and neuromuscular mastery that it requires. I was adept at a number of sports in my youth, baseball, tennis, football. So I knew the requirements of each. Golf, unlike other sports I played, requires a perfection of physical sequencing that permits little room for error; in fact, it permits only millimeters of error. So many things – clubface, angle of attack, arms, hands, legs, hips – must arrive at the ball with near perfection. Even then one might reach the green admirably only to lack the fine motor skills and intelligence to get the ball even remotely near the hole on long putts, and then be unable to sink four foot putts for par. The game requires a control of one’s power throughout the spectrum, from the sheer massive acceleration of a drive to the finest touch on the greens. I know, it’s true that aficionados of athletics will argue convincingly that, for example, no athletic movements compare to the ones required in basketball, and the prowess of coordination and speed required of a third baseman is incomparable, as is, let’s face it, the ability to hit a ball like Ted Williams. All true. But I’ve been around all of these sports and performed somewhat admirably in a few, and, for me, the skill argument begins and ends with golf.

This week, Masters week, is my favorite week of the year, and it involves nothing more than sitting and watching. I fight to keep this week clear. The Masters has always been my finest harbinger of Spring. The unusual beauty of the Augusta, Georgia course and clubhouse is among the first true signs that Winter has packed his bags. Azaleas. Forsythia. Dogwoods. Redbuds. There’s little else as redolent of Spring. In golf history, as well, the Masters signifies the true beginning of the golf season, ending the cold weather tournaments that precede it. Golf is Spring. The Masters, many argue, is golf. And the Masters brings the first of the four yearly tournaments that comprise the “major tournaments.” It’s one that establishes the new season’s first demi-god. Palmer, won four; Nicklaus, the “owner” of the Masters, won six; and Tiger Woods, at 31, owns four.

Tiger, Tiger Burning Bright. This year, Tiger is back from a nine month hiatus caused by a torn knee ligament. His uncomplaining and courageous win at the 2008 U.S. Open, where he could barely walk, forever ennobled his fourth Open win. After off season surgery and rehab he returned to the game this Winter, winning his last tournament, the Arnold Palmer Memorial, in a stupendous charge to the finishing 20 foot putt he needed to win. Concern about his knee resolved. Now the talk, as usual in the Tiger era, is not merely how many major tournaments he will win, but how do we “Tiger-proof” the courses on which he’ll play. Google “tiger-proof golf course” and you’ll get 650,000+ hits. If only a third are relevant, that’s still more than 300,000 ideas. How’s it working so far? No one’s successfully answered, “How do we nullify to some extent Tiger’s immense talent by course design? How do we make it possible of others to win?”

It’s no different this year at the Masters. Actually, the attempt to nullify modern player’s increased length off the tee, has centered on the Augusta course. Tiger is just the initial target. In recent years more and more players are simply outdistancing the fairway traps and other hazards that were “in play” during previous eras. There’s a very good argument that something needed to be done. One still wants the less Paul Bunyan-like hitters to have a chance. They are often the finer shotmakers and putters. But to lack distance off the tee and in the fairways in the era of gargantuan drivers is to give up three to five strokes per round.

What do you do about Tiger then? Lengthen the course? Shorten the course? Well, he’s proved scores of times that he’ll win on a long course and on a short course. He wins when the greens are cut short to increase their difficulty. He wins when fairway traps are placed at distances from the tee that seem best named “Tiger trap.” How does this happen? It’s quite simple. He’s the very best golfer in the world, under all conditions. For example, he’s won 18 of his last 31 tournaments. That’s quite a streak in baseball. In golf, it’s utterly stupendous. Most professional golfers do not win a single tournament in their careers. Tiger’s thrice won five or more tournaments in a row. May I say here, etcetera. The fact about Tiger is one that many cannot accept: there is no way to design a course that will Tiger-proof it. Not until his skills fade or his competitors improve.

So, despite the evidence against its success, how exactly might one Tiger-proof a tournament? Well, here one needs to think out of the box. Way out. I was discussing this with my stepson, Phil, the other day. We decided that the only thing left is to investigate Tiger’s fears and employ them during a tournament. For example, perhaps Tiger has a fear of clowns? Perhaps he would be thrown by cows on the course? Of course, we’d have to find something that all the other players were not also fearful of. Clowns? Well, I for one would not even show up for a tournament where clowns roamed the course. Yet, I learned to my surprise, there are some – many – who do not fear clowns with a hyperventilating apoplexy. Some of these must be pro golfers. So, the presence of clowns, so frightening to Tiger, would be no difficulty for them. The same with cows. Now, for me, a large herd of cows on the course would be a nice pastoral scene, other than the care I’d have to take avoiding their well known “pies.” But that’s what you have caddies for, eh? So, cows would likely offer no problem for most pro golfers. If Tiger were afraid of clowns and cows . . . Then, then we’d have something that just might derail him. He’s tee up, look down the fairway, and see a group of bovines chomping on the rough. He’d turn away, telling himself, “It’s O.K. Tiger. They’re just slow-witted animals. No threat to you.” He’s fortify himself only to return to his teed up ball to notice a few dozen clowns in the gallery. Tell me he would not freeze. Whimpering with fear he’d surely top his ball off the tee into the woods on the right and then be afraid to enter the woods. The cows, you know, lurk there. And the clowns. You never know where they’ll show up. Even his well-known and physically challenging caddie, Steve Williams, would not be able to calm him. No doubt. He’d shoot two consecutive 120s and not make the cut. Something for Augusta National Golf Club to consider for next year’s Masters.

(Reuters) Spectators on 1st fairway watch in stunned silence as Tiger Woods fights his
way through a covey of clowns whilst fleeing the Masters Tournament this morning.

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