Wednesday
In discussing how Tiger Woods has changed during the eight-year Majors drought between his U.S. Open win in 2011 and his extraordinary Master’s victory Sunday, golf commentators have noticed a new friendliness in the formerly aloof golfer. As Golf Channel analyst Rex Hoggard observes,
“I’ve covered him his entire career. I started covering golf the year he turned pro, and I’ve seen the ups and incredible victories, and I’ve seen the unbelievable lows that he’s gone through. But the one thing that’s truly different is with the media. He is much more engaging. You can sit and have a conversation with him now about anything.
“But it’s more about how he engages with everyone else around him. You saw it at Augusta National on Sunday as he’s coming off the 18th green, he’s high-fiving people. Tiger never really did that. He’s engaging with people in the crowd.”
To be sure, the ultra-competitive Tiger who plays with an edge and stares down his opponents has not altogether disappeared. It’s one reason why he triumphed Sunday. But now there’s this other dimension.
When Tiger missed the cut at the PGA Championship in 2011, I invoked Steven Pressfield’s golf novel Legend of Bagger Vance to understand what had happened. Could Tiger overcome his inner demons, I asked. Sunday provided us with an answer
Reprinted from August 13, 2011
I know that golf television announcers are reassuring us (and themselves) that the game has grown beyond Tiger Woods, whose brilliant career has been sidetracked by injuries and domestic problems. I also know that I will not be watching this weekend’s PGA Championship because Tiger missed the cut.
For people like me, golf is devolving back to the days of BT (Before Tiger), a time in the 1990’s when indistinguishable men vied for trophies that seemed to carry little meaning. Then Tiger burst on the scene, taking golf courses by storm (including the once-segregated Masters) and sending golf’s television ratings into the stratosphere. Now that time seems like a lightning flash, illuminating everything briefly before plunging the world back into darkness.
What could get me to come back? How about Tiger following the footsteps of Rannulph Junah, the hero of Steven Pressfield’s golfing novel The Legend of Bagger Vance.
Bagger Vance is based on (of all things) The Bhagavad Gita, the great Hindu poem about a young warrior finding his way through the world. Junah is a once promising golfer who has been emotionally devastated by World War I, even though he served heroically in it. For various reasons, he finds himself involved in a special exhibition match with two of golf’s legendary figures, Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen.
He plays the match as much against his inner torment as against these golfers. As Pressfield puts it, he is battling against “his little self, that yammering fearful ever-resistant self that freezes chokes, tops, nobbles, shanks, skulls, duffs, flubs.”
Pressfield echoes the Gita to give an epic quality to this battle. Guiding Junau is an old black man named Bagger Vance, the novel’s version of Krishna. As in the Gita, Bagger counsels the young warrior (Prince Arjuna) through life’s trials. Junah must let go of attachment and surrender to “the perfect swing” that he has within. If he does so, he will not only prevail in the match. He will conquer his demons.
It’s interesting how golf has turned to Eastern religions in recent years. Most notably, there was Michael Murphy’s 1971 novel Golf in the Kingdom, which he followed up in 1997 with The Kingdom of Shivas Irons. Then Tiger appeared to confirm Murphy’s insights by describing Buddhist meditation. He seemed to have a feel for golf like no previous champion.
But if the Baghavad Gita is any model, Tiger must hit rock bottom before he can find true wisdom. As Vance puts it, he must
act without attachment, as the earth does. As I do. The rain falls, with no thought of watering the land. The clouds roll, not seeking to bring shade. They simply do. And we must too.
Tiger’s 10-over par exit from the tournament (15 strokes behind the leader) is rock bottom. No one knows what will happen next.
Can Tiger come back after having lost his way in the self? Can a man who once ruled the golfing world and who then went through public humiliation find his swing again? And by swing, I mean not only his golf game. I mean his authentic self.
Now that’s a drama that I would watch.
Other Tiger Woods essays (posted chronologically)
Will Tiger Woods Weep Bitter Tears? (April 2010)
Tiger on the Prowl Again (April 2013)
Is Tiger, Like Sherlock, Presumed Dead? (April 2014)