It’s likely been a long time since Tiger Woods last thought about the 1993 Junior World Championships. When you have won 79 professional tournaments, you don’t sweat over a youth competition you played in over half a lifetime ago. But that championships, at Torrey Pines, was an interesting one. Not just because Woods lost, but because of who he lost to. A 16-year-old Mexican-American kid called Pat Perez, who spent his spare time shagging balls on Torrey’s driving range. Perez had to borrow a set of clubs to play that week. They were a couple of inches too long, but it didn’t much matter. He shot 69, 71, 69, 69, and won by three.
It was impossible to miss Perez at Carnoustie during The Open. He’s a large man with a long mullet, in Bill Murray-branded golf gear. And there weren’t too many players with that particular profile out on the links. He had a hell of a week, too, shot 69, 68 on the first two days and was tied for third going into the weekend. Later on Friday night, he came in to chat about his round and ended up talking about whether he had tried the local beer. “I’m more of a screwdriver guy myself,” Perez said. That, and “a little bit of Woodford. That’s when it goes dark. That’s when the bad nights happen.” It was a joke with just a splash too much truth to it.
That win against Woods in 1993 earned Perez a scholarship to Arizona State. He was the star player on the team that won the NCAA team championship in 1996, when Woods took the individual title. Woods turned pro that same year. So did Perez. As a salesman at Golf Mart. The coach at ASU kicked him off the programme in his senior year and he had to drop out because he could not afford the fees. “He said it was because there were a lot of other recruits coming into the programme,” Perez said on Players Tribune last year. “Bullshit.” When Woods won the Masters in 1997, Perez was working as a truck driver.
Eventually, a family friend loaned Perez the entry fee for a local tournament. He won it, and turned pro that very same day, just so he could keep the $500 winners’ cheque. He’s been grinding out a living playing the game ever since. He came through Q school in 2001, and has been on the PGA tour for 17 straight years, “working my ass off to keep my spot”. In his first year on tour, he had six top 10 finishes, won $1.45m, and finished runner-up as the rookie of the year. “Geez Louise,” said Fred Funk after he played with him at the John Deere, “he’s got some game.”
Everyone agreed Perez could play. The problem was that he was so damn angry. “I’ve never belonged to a country club,” Perez once said. “I never went to formal dinners. I grew up on a public course, where swearing and getting mad doesn’t matter.” When he blew a four-shot lead at Pebble Beach he took a chunk out of the 14th fairway with his three-wood, then tried to snap the club over his knee. The PGA tried to get him into anger management classes. “The only way I won’t get mad,” he told them, “is if I win every tournament.” Well, he spent a lot of time swearing, cursing, and cussing, throwing clubs, gloves, and anything else in reach. In 2005 he flipped off his own ball on live TV.
Even Perez’s drinking buddy John Daly said he was too intense. They met when Perez was a kid, caddying at the Buick Invitational. Daly loaned Perez his driver and asked him to hit one.
“He came out kind of shy and hit the shit out of it,” Daly remembered. “Now Pat even gets mad in practice rounds. He’s using up good energy. I say: ‘Pat, can we just enjoy this round?’” The worse he played, the angrier he got, the angrier he got, the worse he played. He once said that World Junior Championships win was the highlight of his career. He was only half-joking. He had won one professional tournament, the Bob Hope Classic in 2009. That was it.
Then, in 2016, Perez turned 40, and everything changed. At this point in the story, you’re likely expecting to hear how he finally mellowed, that, perhaps, age, or marriage, had softened him. Anything but. Actually, he tore his shoulder joint. The injury almost ended his career. And when he came back, he was angrier than ever. He was out so long that his manufacturer, Callaway, dropped him. “I said: ‘OK, fine. You don’t believe in me, you don’t believe in my comeback, then fuck you.’” Perez told the American golf writer Alan Shipnuck last year: “I loved those irons, but I couldn’t wait to put something else in the bag and then shove it up Callaway’s ass. It was such a motivator.”
Since Perez came back, he has had 10 top-10 finishes and two wins. He reached a career-high in the rankings, too, at No 16. If it were not for a quirk in the qualification system, Perez would be a cert for the USA’s Ryder Cup team. Only the committee recently changed the rules and now Perez’s performances last year don’t count. Guess how he feels about that. He won’t waste time worrying. “If they don’t give a fuck about me,” he told Shipnuck, “why am I trying to please them?”
After the incident at Pebble Beach, Woods said: “If you have that much talent, it’s going to show whether you have a temper or not.” All these years later, turns out he was right.
