I just seriously think that golf is a lot harder than many of you (or really all of us), understand. Everyone says "Well, he didn't bring is A game." Well, that's the thing with golf. It's pretty much impossible to bring your A Game each time out. A lot of stars had to align in 2000 for him to have the season he did, including the fact that he's the most talented golfer who ever lived. A lot of this psychoanalysis -- he gagged, he didn't gag, the pressure is getting to him, it's not, he can't play from behind, he has family on his mind -- sort of overlooks the fact that the margin for error in golf is so tiny, even talent isn't enough to overcome every other player in the field some weeks. It's why golf is a "feel" game as much as it's about skill. To say, "He's always going to win if he plays his best" is kind of silly because it's essentially true of all the top players. It's just very difficult to be even close to your best all the time. He's spoiled you in the past because he was so good sometimes, you remember his great shots and great tournaments more than his so-so ones. And there have been so-so ones. Did he gag at Carnoustie this past year when he finished 12th? How about two years ago when he missed two short eagle putts on the back nine at the Masters, letting Mickelson waltz to a victory? How about at the 2004 PGA when he shot 73 on the final day and finished 24th? Was the pressure getting to him? No, it just wasn't his week. Jack Nicklaus had those weeks too.
From 1970 to 1980, the best stretch of his career, Jack Nicklaus played in 44 major championships. He won 10, and finished in the top 10 (including those wins) a ridiculous 39 times.
So even when he was the baddest golfer walking the planet, right in the middle of his peak, Jack was still only winning majors less than once every four times he teed it up. Was he suffering from too much internal pressure? Was he choking when facing his own legend? Or was he just playing pretty good golf that sometimes wasn't good enough?
People, I think, misinterpret the desire to see Tiger come from behind and win a major. Yes, he may win 25 majors, win them all while holding a 54-hole lead, and hang up his spikes as the best who ever lived. But seeing him come back isn't as much the need to see him prove himself when the chips are down as it is the desire to be entertained -- to be thrilled -- by the unexpected. It's easy to be in awe of domination, and it's entertaining to a point. But it's never as thrilling, as exciting, as the charge. When I think about all Tiger's major victories, my favorite is never the 12-stroke victory at the Masters in 97, or the total beat down he put on the field at Pebble Beach.
It's the playoff victory over Bob May at Valhalla. That's all I want to see. More of those. More drama. I want to be in awe of his gifts, but I also want to be riveted. It's a lot more fun than a 18-hole parade. That's why people want to see him storm back in a major.
