Has Tiger Tainted Golf?

TAINTED:
So what does the game of golf do now?
In that early November morning, Tiger Woods’ halo did more than just slip, it went clattering down his driveway along with his credibility.
Golf fans around the world have every single reason to feel betrayed, too, a sense that has continued to grow as time – and Woods’ silence – have worn on.
Collectively, you see, we have been sold a pup. Or a dog, as Woods’ wife Elin is no doubt thinking every spare minute or so. It might be a small mercy in the face of private tears and public humiliation but at least she’ll get a massive payout to ease the pain.
We are just left to feel embarrassed and slightly soiled by the whole sordid affair.
Golf invested heavily in Woods and his astonishing performances over the years have brought unprecedented popularity, progress and riches to the game. But for all that brilliance, the public, the galleries, was asked to pay a price too.
We had to turn a blind eye to Woods’ tantrums while playing, the swearing and the spitting. And the poor press pack – bellies buffet-binge-full thanks to that extra money around the game – had to grin and nod along through interview session after interview session as Woods turned the monotone up to full bore.
In turn we not only believed the hype fuelled by Woods’ army of advisors, it made us go weak at the knees.
It had started of course with the childhood appearances on TV and it was nurtured willingly thanks to Woods’ father Earl, who famously once claimed his son would “do more than any other man in history to change the course of humanity.’’
As the titles came, along with a dominance of the game never seen before, Woods retreated into his own world, to emerge only when his time absolutely suited and – let’s not forget here – was handsomely compensated.
Burned by a GQ article in 1997, when the reporter had the gall to present the then 21-year-old as the fratboy he still was, Woods and his advisers obviously decided the best way to deal with the prying public was to keep it as far away as possible. Thus Privacy is the name of his yacht and we’ve never really been given a chance to get a glimpse of what makes the man tick.
Didn’t stop us investing though. You paid top dollar to watch the man play, even more if you wanted to wear the same watches he did, drive the same cars – in some small way get close to living the same life.
We believed what golf – and Woods – wanted us to believe. This was a man beyond reproach, untouchable to mere mortals as he proved unplayable to his opponents.
Woods gave golf credibility when the world’s other major events – from baseball, through athletics and everywhere in between – were tainted by scandals and by lies. Or so it seemed.
And therein lies the crunch. Woods was of course never ever anything more than human – but that’s the last thing he and golf wanted the world to believe. Golf put him above everyone else – and Woods willingly allowed it.
And, in the end, that is exactly what has hurt the game.
It was during the bar-room banter that inevitably followed all the sordid allegations that I saw first-hand the effect of Woods fall from grace has had on golf itself. We were laughing – all but one. “I feel like a fool as I actually believed he was somehow above all the other s—,’’ he said.
Woods still believes he is, too. Not a word to the millions of fans that followed him. Religiously. He has only ever given begrudgingly and now he gives nothing at all.
His former coach Butch Harmon agrees that this is where the most damage is being done. The fans – the people who make the game happen – have found out just what they mean in the whole scheme of things. Nothing.
“The golfing public would like to see Tiger Woods do a press conference,’’ Harmon told The Guardian. “To stand there in front of everybody, take his medicine, be humble, be embarrassed, be humiliated, and answer the questions. But where the hell is he? We could find Osama bin Laden easier than we can find Tiger Woods. How long can you spend on a yacht in the middle of the ocean?’’
We don’t know the final price golf will pay – but pay it will. Woods will return and the fans will no doubt want their pound of flesh. Just how he deals with it – and what the golfing authorities do to protect him, or support him when the hecklers come – remains to be seen.
But that nasty taste won’t go away soon. Woods wasn’t in the end the Messiah at all. Just a very naughty boy. - M.S.