It is not often that a day dawns with the assurance of history being made but Sunday, April 13, 1997, was one of those rare days.
The day was overcast and seasonably cool, the temperature struggling to reach 70 by mid-afternoon and there was an undeniable energy pulsing through the Georgia air.
The Tiger Woods era, as deep and rich as the red sweater he wore that Sunday, was coming to life. That Sunday at Augusta was like the Beatles first appearing on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” ushering the world into a dimension.
The anticipation had been building through the week. On Thursday evening, after Woods followed up a thrill-slowing 40 on his first nine holes by shooting 30 coming in, the fuse was lit.
On the street, ticket prices skyrocketed, reaching $10,000 just for the chance to be there when golf changed.
By Saturday evening, Woods was nine shots clear of the field. Jack Nicklaus, the godfather of green jackets, looked at the big white scoreboard near the 18th green and laughed.
Colin Montgomerie, who played alongside Woods on Saturday when the 21-year-old shot 65 while hitting 17 greens in regulation, started the third round three behind and was trailing by 12 at sundown.
Reminded Saturday evening that one year earlier Greg Norman had led the Masters by six shots with one round remaining only to be chased down by Nick Faldo, Montgomerie slapped back at the suggestion Woods might lose.
“This is different, very different. Faldo isn’t lying in second and Greg Norman is not Tiger Woods,” Montgomerie said.
“There is no chance. It is not humanly possible Tiger Woods is going to lose this tournament. No way.”
As Woods’ Sunday tee time approached, the first fairway was lined three and four deep. Around the tee, patrons crowded to catch a glimpse of Woods, and under the famous live oak behind the Augusta National clubhouse guests gathered while staff members stepped outside to be part of the moment.
Standing under the tree was Lee Elder, who broke the color barrier at the Masters in 1975.
“Everyone hoped and prayed a day like this would come,” Elder said.
Woods called that final round the most difficult of his life and, when it ended with his sweater sleeves pushed up his arms as he threw a celebratory fist pump, it felt as if the ground had shifted.
Not only had Woods set the tournament scoring record at 18-under-par 270, his 12-stroke margin of victory was the largest in a major championship since 1870.
And it was only the beginning.
As single-minded as they come, Woods went through much of his career intentionally walled off from the world. He radiated heat more than warmth. He used intimidation like a 15th club.
Woods will celebrate his 50th birthday on Dec. 30, another milestone in an epic and brilliant life that has somehow managed to transcend the magnitude of his 82 PGA Tour victories and his 15 major championship titles.
It is a moment that prompts reflection, appreciation and a guarded anticipation that Woods’ story is ongoing even as he recovers from yet another back surgery.
In this issue of Global Golf Post, our writers are sharing personal reflections on Woods, both big and small. Whether you saw him in person or watched on television, Woods has impacted us both as a player and person whose presence has been impossible to ignore.
It has been my good fortune to have been an eyewitness to the Tiger era, walking behind him from greens to tees as fans screamed and stretched to touch him and being awestruck by not just the shots he hit but the expectation he would do what no one else could.
What fully began in April 1997 has been given texture by the way his life and career has unfolded. It has been fantastic and flawed, a Shakespearean streak running through a story that has been written into history and, at times, in the tabloids, the whole of it making him infinitely more interesting.
Two years after his first Masters victory, I spent 20 minutes with Woods in the locker room at Harbour Town, talking to him as he worked his way through Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and a Snickers bar. We talked about coping with his fame, how quiet his mind gets during a tournament and his unfulfilled desire to dunk a basketball.
Through the years, I’ve had several other one-on-one sessions with Woods and the best parts were when the conversation drifted away from golf and into something else, maybe the Los Angeles Dodgers or children.
There have been moments when he is just a guy, telling a joke or sharing a story that would never surface in an interview room. He stretched out on a couch in the Quail Hollow locker room to talk about his father and we spent 30 minutes together in a cart in the Bahamas one year where he would pause periodically as he drove to stretch his aching back, openly wondering when and if he might play again.
He has made just 11 official starts in five years and, as his 50th approaches, Woods said last week he doesn’t know what his playing future looks like.
Woods’ career is a starburst catalog of moments. The 6-iron from a fairway bunker in Canada. The good-to-the-last-drop pitch-in on the 16th hole at Augusta. The Tiger Slam.
Walking down the 18th fairway among thousands of fans at East Lake in 2018. The sustained cheers echoing through Augusta’s famous pines when he won the 2019 Masters. The anticipation every time he walked onto the first tee.
Age, aches and an auto accident have put a ragged edge on Woods’ career the past few years. He has made just 11 official starts in five years and, as his 50th approaches, Woods said last week he doesn’t know what his playing future looks like.
“I'd like to come back to just playing golf again,” he said at last week’s Hero World Challenge, where he was again limited to playing the role of host.
Woods was never one of the guys until his career arc began to bend. He befriended a younger generation of players who grew up watching him in his prime. When his son, Charlie, began playing golf, Woods seemed to embrace the joy of the game again.
With the PGA Tour facing a moment of change, Woods has been an activist of sorts. He has stepped into rather than away from a leadership role. His voice carries and he’s using it to help guide and protect the PGA Tour.
It is one more twist in a story unlike any other.
“Whatever he’s able to do, he wants golf to be in the best hands possible. If that means him doing more, he’s going to do it,” said Justin Thomas, one of Woods’ closest friends.
Woods’ hair is thinning and he’s days away from being eligible for AARP benefits. If his recovery goes well, it’s possible Woods will play on PGA Tour Champions at some point next year.
Time remains undefeated but what happened in the spring of 1997 – and all that came after it – remains timeless.
