The Human Drama of Athletic Competition

Is there anything more amusing than listening to an announcer say, ‘it’s one of those times you wish the camera would give them a little space.” Ahhh… really? Did they not realize the irony of their words as their networks cameras zoomed in closer and closer on Tiger Woods’ emotional hug with his wife Elin. Of course, they were right, it was a moment which would best have been shared by the pair alone, but there it was live on television for us all to watch. And make no mistake, there was something special about watching Woods’ victory in the 2006 British Open.

Like most casual golf fans, I tend only to cheer for Tiger Woods and Phil Mickleson. If for no other reason than because those are the most recognizable names. Yet it is easier to cheer for Phil, because he’s so human. His faults are glorious, his meltdown at the US Open confirming that even in this matured stage of his career there remains a stubborn, defiant maverick. He wears his emotions on his sleeve and corrals fans with his easy, friendly manner. Tiger corrals fans in a different way, through greatness. From his emergence as a teenager in the Mid-90s, Tiger has done nothing to dissuade the prediction that he will retire as the greatest player in history. The emotions which come along with Tiger only seem to emphasize that prediction. The fiery, arrogant swagger which has seen countless fist pumps after countless breathtaking shots only intensifies the image of Woods as the most driven athlete of his time. The emotion after victory, the sign of his lust to be the greatest. There was no drama, no surprises, no Phil-like meltdowns or humanity. Yet, as the great Jim McKay famously said, “it is the human drama of athletic competition which drives us.” It is easier to cheer for Phil, because he is so accessible, but Tiger has never given us that human drama. He has seemed so perfect, so driven, so destined to eclipse the great names of golf. Along the way, his father, Earl Woods, has been there with the victorious hug at every Major victory; that is, until this one.

After the senior Woods’ death from cancer on May 3, Woods disappeared from the lime light. He grieved, as we all would in the privacy of those that loved him. He did not play golf until the middle of June and the US Open, which of course was the perfect time to return. Given Woods’ sense of history, his unparalleled drive, and his devotion to his father returning to a tournament which concluded on Fathers Day was the Hollywood answer to a grieving son. Unfortunately, the human drama of athletic competition is far more interesting than that and Tiger Woods missed his first cut at Major. His first Major without his father, his first missed cut. Woods, who had been so metronomic throughout his career, was now so blessedly human.

Which made his march up 18 at Royal Liverpool so special. After jumping out to a one stroke lead on Friday, Woods had everyone questioning whether his historic closing abilities would be affected by his father’s passing, but despite the best efforts of a valiant Chris DiMarco --- himself mourning the recent loss of a beloved parent, his mother --- Woods showed us that this was his moment, his and Earl’s time. On the final hole, victory three shots and a short putt away, Woods left his birdie putt a hair short. This allowed him to tap the ball in for victory, which he did even as tears were exploding from his eyes. It was that human drama which made it compelling television. Woods seemed incapable of letting go of his caddie Steve Williams; as if Williams has suddenly become Woods’ father and if he let go, Woods would collapse to the ground, like the child of Earl Woods he will eternally remain. Finally Woods let go, but his face still contorted in equal parts agony and jubilation, he quickly found the loving embrace of his wife. It was such a simple life moment: the transition from the loving, supportive embrace of a parent, to the loving, supportive embrace of a spouse. It was a personal moment and as Jim Nantz so ironically observed, it was one of those moments where you wish the cameras would give them space, but there on television for all to see, it was the thrill of victory… and the agony of defeat… the human drama of athletic competition… it was a moment we shouldn’t have watched and it was a moment which exemplified why we watch. Congratulations Tiger, it was your moment and we are all fortunate to have shared it with you.