So much for the sentiment that old friend Torrey Pines Golf Course would restore Tiger Woods to his Tigerness.
Torrey Pines, cozied up against the Pacific Ocean, is sacred ground to the Southern California native. He won here as a boy and and now likely could walk its two courses blindfolded without clonking any of its pines. He’d collected seven first-place checks here, including five in a row since 2005. And for his U.S. Open victory in 2008, when he prevailed on one knee, a plaque honors him at the South’s first tee.
So the Torrey-as-Tiger-tonic talk picked up when Woods, winless since 2009, arrived here to launch his 2011 season.
Seventy-six touches of the ball later on Sunday, Woods was as bloodied as the San Diego residents who pay $50 to gouge this muni track.
The four-day total of 287 — one-under par — was his worst to start a PGA season.
Sunday, Tiger Woods signed a scorecard with nine 5s.
Then the golf gods cried, rain drenching the remaining players and a pro-Tiger gallery.
Probably because there was already enough of his blood in the water for the other golfers to smell, Woods afterward was mostly smiles and happy talk.
He told us his woes owed solely to the vagaries of learning a retooled swing.
He acknowledged no decline in confidence and reminded us that when he reworked his swing in the mid-1990s, a dry spell gave way to dominance — eventually.
“I’ve been through this road before,” he said, and we know that’s not wholly true. “It takes time. Unfortunately, I’m playing events and the golf course is not easy, especially this one. You’ve just go to be patient.”
Did he expect better from himself when he got to Torrey on Wednesday?
“Absolutely,” he said. “Absolutely.”
At 35, he’s coming off the worst year of his career. He’s matched his longest drought without winning a major. If he still has plenty of years to catch Jack Nicklaus, who won 18 majors, including a Masters at age 46, he admitted he has a “lot of work to do” to get ready for the Masters.
When he’s playing like Eldrick instead of Tiger, the PGA remains interesting only for the golf nerds.
Golf misses Tiger Woods, but this comeback looks tougher than his other comebacks from swing remodelings.
He’s older now and coming off knee surgery. But I wonder more about his psyche, and the psyche of his emboldened foes, than his body.
Even should he regain peak form, his tremendous mental advantage has been eroded.
Consider the revelations of pitching star Trevor Hoffman, who dominated hitters for more than a decade as the closer for the San Diego Padres. Asked to explain why he fared better with a save dangling than when pitching in a tie game or with his team ahead by four runs, Hoffman said it was the hitters, not he, who changed when the pressure heightened. “When there’s a save on the line, the adrenaline can work against them,” said the all-time save leader.
Hoffman’s ultra-slow changeup made hitters looks so clumsy, some would put the first fastball into play, almost defensively, rather than risk the humiliation of looking stupid on the two-strike pitch.
Likewise, many of Woods’ contemporaries on the PGA Tour used to wilt at the prospect of dueling him on Sunday. Many were American pansies collecting large checks, unable to stand up to either Woods or, for that matter, the Europeans when matched against them in the Ryder Cup.
Woods probably still doesn’t need to worry about those guys, if he can get his game back.
But the youngsters on tour won’t know any better. They’ve seen the mortal Tiger. They’ve heard the galleries’ cries of “Go Tiger” that Sunday were resigned pleas, more than cocky declarations. To the younger players, Woods is an old dude who used to be great. They’re not much interested in his storied history. For now, neither is Tiger.
“I’m not looking back,” he said. “I’m moving forward. That’s what I have to do, and that’s what I’m doing.”
He was talking about his swing, but can he repair his psyche?
