The Wheels Are Officially Off

Well, that escalated quickly. Tiger Woods—you remember him, he used to be the best golfer in the universe—shot a combined sixteen-over par in the first two rounds of the U.S. Open on Thursday and Friday. It was his worst 36-hole score in his professional career. He missed the cut by roughly…a billion shots. And do you know what the curious thing about it was?

Nobody was particularly surprised.

Tiger used to be a favorite to win every tournament he entered. In fact, it used to be that Las Vegas sportsbooks would post “Tiger versus the field” odds. Just take a moment to appreciate the absurdity of that. The PGA Tour, home of the best golfers in the world, and you used to be able to get odds that Woods would beat ALL OF THEM. The funny thing was, betting on the field was typically a sucker’s bet.

And this weekend, those same Vegas oddsmakers had Tiger as an underdog to even make the cut. It’s straight up mindboggling how far and how fast Tiger Woods has fallen.

I know that everybody wants to blame his extramarital affairs and whatnot for his downfall, but, come on. Let’s be serious. The PGA Tour is full of multi-millionaires who travel within the highest levels of society. You think Tiger was the only one acting that way? Please. The other members should be very, very glad that Tiger didn’t go Kobe on them when his indiscretions were revealed and start naming names. I guarantee that there were at least twenty other guys sweating profusely every night for about a month after Elin “acted courageously” by swinging a golf club in anger at his ‘Slade.

Personally, I think Tiger was juicing. And I think he knew that if he had another scandal, he was done for in the eyes of the general public (it’s amazing, isn’t it? We’ll totally forgive a guy for treating the entire world like a sexual candy store, but steroids? BAN HIM FOREVER). So he stopped juicing. He got old, and he got old quickly. His body started breaking down. He lost confidence. And now? It’s hard to imagine him ever being competitive again at the highest levels of the sport.

I remember Jack Nicklaus saying once, when asked about Tiger breaking his all-time record of eighteen majors something along the lines of, “I believe Tiger will break my record—but he’s actually got to go out and do it.” Meaning, Tiger isn’t the greatest yet. Maybe someday he will be, but Jack was still King.

Well, maybe I’m biased, considering I spent a great deal of time at my dad’s house in Muirfield Village growing up, but I don’t think Tiger has a chance of winning an orange ball at his local Putt-Putt, much less claiming Jack’s title as the best ever. Dude is done.

 

Bark M:
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