The problem with mainstream sports reporting is that a collective consciousness develops in which scribes from all corners of the country begin to think and write with one brain. When you can pick up a paper in any city in the nation and read the same opinions, "conventional wisdom" becomes an oxymoron along the lines of "deafening silence" and "jumbo shrimp."
Only six months ago, there was an idea about Tiger Woods that was picking up some steam. He had come back to the pack -- or the pack had caught up to him -- and he was no longer the same golfer who eliminated ninety percent of the field when he walked into the locker room on Thursday morning.
The reasons were varied. Analysts claimed that his success had motivated some of his rivals to work harder on their bodies and their game, making fields deeper and more competitive than ever. Columnists suggested that his marriage had diluted his focus. Golf pros were certain that his swing changes were misguided. Phil Mickelson claimed Tiger was playing with inferior equipment.
All wrong.
It's my guess that the last four days have reminded the doubters of what I've been saying for years. When we watch Tiger Woods tee it up on a Sunday afternoon, we're watching history. It's Babe Ruth swatting a ball into the right field bleachers, Ernest Hemingway banging away at a typewriter, Miles Davis blowing his way through Kind of Blue. Quite simply, genius on display.
As is often the case with the great ones, Tiger's dominance on Sunday could only be truly appreciated by focusing on his rivals. Tiger's game seemed solid if not spectacular as he finished a modest two strokes under par for his round. But as he was notching par after par with metronomic efficiency, his competition was falling away like flies. Much has been made of the 90 second sequence during which José Maria Olazábal bogeyed at twelve, Colin Montgomerie bogeyed at thirteen, and Tiger birdied at twelve to stretch his lead from two strokes to four, but was there really anyone on the planet who doubted the outcome at any point on Sunday?
For me, though, the most telling moment of the round came two holes earlier when Tiger missed a ten-foot par putt at the tenth, cutting his lead to two. His putt looked perfect the entire way until it seemed to resist the break just enough to skate the left edge of the hole. The old Tiger would've stalked the green, angry enough to chew glass, but the new and improved model simply smiled in disbelief, and even managed to mock himself with a knock-kneed stance as he tapped in for bogey.
So how is it that a man can respond to a situation like this, a turn of events that might lead others to snap a putter, by smiling and laughing? My guess is that it comes from more than just a confidence in his ability. This new Tiger, who talks openly about the sadness of his father's failing health and the happiness of his married life, suddenly seems to be measuring his life in more ways than just the number of trophies on his mantel.
After winning his tenth major championship (thirteenth if you count his U.S. Amateur wins), Tiger was asked what it was like to be living the life he had dreamed about as a child. His response: "I didn't know I would be this happy."
The marriage that was supposed to derail his pursuit of Jack Nicklaus instead has rejuvenated his career, and we're right back where we were before everyone fell in love with Vijay Singh. There's Tiger, and then there's everyone else.
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