No sooner had Monday’s news been delivered than the conspiracy theories started. Tiger Woods, it was suggested, never had any intention of returning to action either in California this week or Turkey next month; earlier assertions to the contrary had been linked to some wider commercial plan. The fact so much of Woods’s life is shrouded in secrecy only fuels such theories.
For once, this sceptical thought process does not make any sense. For all Woods may be fond of the dollar signs he can attach to his name, the scale of reputational damage attached to announcing a comeback after 15 months before stating he does not regard his golf to be good enough to appear is huge. Even the notion he was paid a fee simply for stating he would feature in the Turkish Airlines Open does not come close to offsetting what happened next. For Woods, not least in terms of public perception, this is nothing other than a serious setback.
Had he pointed towards an issue with his back and, perhaps, the taking of added precautions on medical advice as a reason to kick his return into the long grass, there would have been questions as to whether his fitness would ever be of a level where competing again is a reality. There would also have been widespread nods of understanding.
Instead Woods – he of 79 PGA Tour wins including 14 majors – highlighted a “vulnerable” golf game. The player once so unwilling to pinpoint weakness to the point where he may have thought himself infallible, is now telling the world he would most likely embarrass himself in tournament play. A man who as recently as the 2013 Masters boasted about the ability to play an approach shot two yards differently to the one before is now conjuring visions of shanks and duffs. If that seems an exaggeration, Woods’s second round of 82 at last year’s Phoenix Open is a decent reference point.
If this is deep-rooted performance anxiety, it is highly serious. If Woods’s golf is broken to the point where either yips are apparent or it has to be completely rebuilt, the same grim outlook applies. Woods seemed to be an important figure to the USA team at the Ryder Cup, where he was a vice-captain, but did not move with the same ease or carried the same aura as before. Something has changed, albeit gradually rather than swiftly.
Two aspects are unique to Woods. First, every shot of every tournament he played was scrutinised even before the injury and form woes that have ruined his last three years. When trying to recapture even some of his greatness, the level of attention means errors will be amplified tenfold. The Catch 22 is the only way Woods can become competitive again is by sampling tournament golf.
The other pertinent aspect relates to his character. Whereas other players returning from multiple back surgeries may be content to float around the midriff of PGA Tour events, Woods’s ferocious competitive instinct can never be toned down. Turning up at any event with no aspiration whatsoever of winning, regardless of backdrop, would seem pointless. Aligning this lifelong approach with his current circumstances represents a massive psychological challenge for him.
Aspects of Monday’s announcement were strange. Woods had formally entered the Safeway Open only on Friday, his manager Mark Steinberg revealing he had subsequently travelled to California for intense warmup work.
“When he ramped it up the past few days, hole by hole he realised his game was just not responding in the way he wanted it to,” Steinberg said. This is not a 14-year-old cramming for a physics exam. It is legitimate to ask what precisely changed over the tiny timeframe of a weekend in the context of Woods’s longer absence.
Even more curiously, Steinberg insisted Woods was not taking part in Turkey out of “respect for the PGA Tour”. The agent said his client did not feel it “appropriate” to restart his career outside of the United States. While there is sympathy due towards the people who bought tickets for the Safeway Open in expectation Woods would turn up, the location for his next appearance is surely irrelevant. When able to play, he has to, whether in San Diego or San Marino. The PGA Tour has benefited more than enough from Woods’s status to be chippy about his schedule.
As Woods will know only too well, there cannot be continued comebacks. This, bluntly and whenever it arrives, will be his final tilt at adding to the roll of honour that established him as one of golf’s all-time greats. For that reason, perhaps the erring on the side of caution is a sensible move. What cannot be overstated is how serious a predicament Woods remains in. His own terminology offers proof of that.
