Quin, Larry, I’m surprised (i.e. sad) I haven’t seen anything from you on Tiger Woods’ ultimate stinger in not only winning the PGA yesterday but re-establishing himself as the most phenomenal golfer/athlete/competitor/sportsman imaginable. Apart from his super-human excellence, most interesting to me is how his competitors respond to him.
Take, for instance, his playing partner yesterday, Luke Donald. Before Sunday, Donald’s play was superb. His drives straight and true, his irons right on target, his puts deadly accurate. If you’d never seen him before, you’d have concluded he was one of the best. He started off yesterday in much the same form. But after a few putts that just missed and a bad break on the fifth hole, suddenly his edge was gone. From that point on it was clear as day that he knew there was no way he could compete with Woods. Having started the day even with him, he ended six strokes behind.
Now you also know why a tournament lasts four days. At one point on Saturday a dozen or so players were in the hunt, either tied for the lead or within a stroke or two of it. On Sunday, all but one of them faded, as Woods for all intents lapped them, left them in the dust, moved on to another planet — all in the space of the front nine. On the back nine he was competing only against himself, giving new definition to what it must mean to feel lonely at the top.
