Dude! Dude. Seriously, I'm sick of this. I'm sick of having to write a lengthy piece about how "you're back" only to follow it up two weeks later with a story about how you're "still finding your game." I'm sick of hearing how close you are, or how you're starting to feel it click.
I'm sick of seeing you nearly lose to a guy in match play that has a name longer than the Great Wall of China that we will never hear from again. I'm done.
Just be good again, okay? For all of us? Golf is better when you're really, really good. Golf is better when I'm not questioning if you can roll in an uphill par putt on smooth greens to win a first round match at the Accenture, a tournament you used to treat like Stephen Ames. I'm sick of hearing guys that I'll never write about again say "you're beatable," with the worst part of it all knowing that the guy is right. You're beatable. I want you to go back to not being.
I grew up loving your golf swing. I kept Sports Illustrated covers in my filling cabinet when I was in junior high. I have the 1997 Masters one. The PGA Championship cover. The one where you are wearing your hat sideways and looking Ken Griffey Jr.-ish. We all enjoyed you because, like your local coffee shop where the barista knows your name, the result is satisfying in that it's consistent. You know what's coming. It's what keeps us Type A people going.
And I'm so tired of seeing you struggle. I really, really am. You are too talented to struggle. You're too talented to hit three-woods in the desert when all you need is to find something that resembles green to win holes. You're too competitive to post a 75 when arch-rival Phil Mickelson is shooting zero.
Golf fans just want Tiger back, even though we all know the same guy that used to run through tournaments isn't going to come through that door. We just want something that looks like a former champion. A solid final round when you need it. Putts to drop that used to be gimmies. A runaway win.
But most of all, can you just beat the hell out of some of these guys that you're supposed to beat? That's really all I'm asking for. I loved when you would drive the stake into the heart of your victim just for looking at you the wrong way. It was mesmerizing. It was unbelievable. But most of all, it was you.