Saturday, April 9, 2011
Tiger Woods Again Cries Wolf
Let me ask you something ... have you ever gone to Las Vegas and spent some time in the sports book? Have you ever chatted about a certain game or match with your buddies and convinced one another that this game, this one, was such a lock you had to put a wager on it? And after you put more money on it than you should have, and you're getting killed five minutes into it, having that gut-wrenching moment when you think, "What in the hell was I thinking?"
That, to me, is Tiger Woods at this point. Anytime he does something good I spend time trying to convince myself that he is back and he is ready to contend again. His final round 66 at Doral was a good example of this. We all watched as Tiger recaptured our hope and thought, as he left the golf course, that this was the moment he found his swing. It wasn't. And after his 68 in the second round of Bay Hill, I wrote that I thought he'd win over the weekend, which I was embarrassingly wrong about.
But Friday at Augusta seemed different. He was actually making the putts he used to make and hitting great shots and looking confident and it felt different. But it wasn't. Not even a little bit.
"What in the hell was I thinking?"
Tiger's Saturday 74 was more of the same from Woods. He hit his driver bad, and didn't hit a ton of great iron shots, but when he did, he couldn't convert the putt. He missed short putts, including a par putt on 11 that really derailed any momentum he had heading into the back nine, and a three-putt par on the 15th hole that has played the easiest hole of the week. His missed par on 18, as he stood in perfect position off the tee just cemented the fact that Tiger is far from back, and we need to realize this.
It's easy to get excited, but that isn't the case.
He can't make a putt, he isn't hitting the ball that great, and just because he can go out on Friday and post 66 doesn't mean he's going to win the golf tournament. Fridays are when people like Bo Van Pelt (no offense) go low and then fade away on the weekend. Back in the day, Tiger would have followed that 66 up with a 68 and been off the races for another green jacket.
Now, he just forces me to slap my head, and mutter over and over again, "What in the hell was I thinking?" It's getting old, as I'm sure it is for Tiger Woods.