I’ve had enough.
I’ve had enough of the world’s most famous spoiled brat.
I’ve had enough of Tiger Woods.
It took watching a wonderfully sincere display of emotions on Sunday by Masters Champion Bubba Watson to make me realize if Woods never played in another golf tournament, I wouldn’t miss him at all. And I sure wouldn’t miss his antics.
I was watching the Masters Friday when Tiger fanned his 9-iron on 16, dropped his club and then kicked it a good 15 yards towards the back of the tee box. Talk about embarrassing. In the words of Nick Faldo, who was on the broadcast, “Tiger’s lost his game. He’s lost his mind.” [You can watch it here.]
I was watching again Saturday when Tiger snap-hooked his drive on 13, after which he violently slammed his driver into the ground, digging up a huge chunk of the pristine Augusta National turf. Bobby Jones rolled in his grave on that one.
And this is the world’s most famous athlete? The one the youth of America should be looking up to? The one who should be a model for all of us who play this great sport?
It was different at the beginning. Everybody liked Tiger, and he seemed appreciative of the opportunity. Tiger’s debut was one of the most anticipated events in sports history. I got to see it in person. I was smitten. It was August 29, 1996. My son Randy and I stood adjacent to what is now the 10th tee at Brown Deer Park Golf Course during the first round of the Greater Milwaukee Open, to watch Tiger Woods hit his first shot as a professional.
We knew we were witnessing history. And we all know how that turned out.
Tiger arguably became one of the best to ever play the game, the most recognizable and highest paid athlete in the world. More than that, he became a hugely iconic figure, drawing enormous crowds and TV ratings to every tournament he entered, and most importantly attracting African-Americans to golf in record numbers. All was good.
Then came 2010, and since then the negatives far outweigh the positives.
We all know now about what Tiger’s compulsive infidelity did to his marriage and his image. His attitude has been deplorable since then. Not once has he appeared recalcitrant, not once has he appeared grateful to be allowed back into the hearts and minds of adoring fans whenever he plays.
Instead, he curses, swears, throws clubs and stomps around like a 20-handicapper with no manners. And the worst part is that he doesn’t appear to think its wrong.
The New York Times ran an article last Saturday entitled “Flustered Woods Loses Temper and Ground”. In it they quote Woods, after he was told people were upset about his antics, as saying: “Certainly I’m frustrated at times and I apologize if I offended anybody by that. But I’ve hit some bad shots and it’s certainly frustrating at times not hitting the ball where you need to hit it.”
So this means that if no one was offended, it was okay? What about the example he’s setting for the millions of kids out there? What about the spirit of the game? Guess none of that matters to Tiger.
Compare this to Masters Champion Bubba Watson. When Tiger wins, you get a whole bunch of yay-me type fist pumping and comments about how great he hit it and all his great shots.
With Bubba, you get tears, hugs, more tears, more hugs and comments about how fortunate and blessed he is to have had this opportunity. Even two PGA tour pros, Rickie Fowler and Ben Crane, followed Bubba in the playoff Sunday and were there to hug him after he won. When have you ever seen one of Tiger’s fellow pros hug him, no less even follow him?
Whether we like it or not, athletes are supposed to be role models for young people, especially young aspiring athletes, regardless of race. When someone is a role model for the youth of America, you’d expect to see qualities like humility, self-control and appreciation in that person. We certainly saw those qualities Sunday in Bubba Watson. We certainly see them in three-time Masters Champion Phil Mickelson. And numerous other golf professionals. But we don’t see them in Tiger.
I was quite fine watching the Masters Sunday with no Tiger ever-present. No swearing, no club kicking, no fist pumping.
I finally realized, I’ve had enough.
