SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. - There is a certain symmetry to the return of the U.S. Open to Shinnecock Hills Golf Club out on the tip of Long Island. At least in terms of one Eldrick Woods. advertisement
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How so?Consider that in 1995, when last the U.S. Open visited this gem of a golf course, Woods had to exit with an injury. Fast forward nine years and on the eve of another national championship at the vaunted Shinnecock, Woods again is injured. Surely, the circumstances are totally different. He sought an early dismissal in '95 as an amateur who had been too bold in his attempt to dislodge his ball out of waist-high fescue, the wrist stinging so much it made no sense to play on. This time around, his injury isn't so much physical as it is mental; his ego is bruised and one could argue that Woods has lost that one priceless edge that he used to have over his competition. The fear factor. Drag out all the theories you want ... that his new swing isn't working; that he needs Butch Harmon; that he's engaged; that he can't drive it straight; that at the age of 28 he's past his prime ... but one thought keeps floating to the top when you seek to explain the current state of Woods's game. Which is this: It appears that just as a sliver of self-doubt has crept into Woods's mind, the opposition for the first time in years has stopped looking at his name on the leaderboard and going into convulsions. Whereas players in pursuit of Woods used to take for granted that he would do wonderous things — and thus make things almost impossible for them — they appear to be far less in awe of his presence and far more convinced that they can win against him so long as they take care of their own business. /peacock_7788aa.gif) | Interactive |
|  | What's gone wrong with Woods in recent big events, plus preview of his next two years |
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They don't expect him to hole out from the fairway — as he did on the 15th hole in that incredible seven-shots-down-with-seven-holes-to-play rally to win the 2000 AT & T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am.They don't wait for him to curl home 80-foot putts over three slopes — as he did on the 17th green in his winning effort at The Players Championship in 2001. They don't assume he's going to study a new golf course for just a few days, then master it to win a major championship — as he did in dramatic fashion to take the U.S. Open at Bethpage in 2002. Those were history-making days, back when Woods was winning seven of 11 majors, back when he had colleagues muttering to themselves and digging deep for superlatives. "He is," said Mark Calcavecchia, standing greenside as Woods ran over the opposition to win the 2000 British Open at St. Andrews, "the chosen one." Maybe then. But not now. And probably never again. No, sir. Somehow, some way Woods has become just another golfer to his foes. A truly gifted golfer, yes. Most likely still the best, OK. But a golfer prone to the bad bounces and flukely intricacies of the game that they all have encountered. They expect him to falter from time to time, to miss fairways, to be wide of greens with approaches, to make bogeys, to question his swing. Certainly, he carries the limit of 14 clubs in the bag, but no longer does he have the invisible 15th, the mental edge he held over the opposition. And guess what? It's perhaps gone forever.  | FREE VIDEO |
| | • Tiger's tough run
June 14: Other players discuss what's gone wrong with Tiger Woods, who hasn't won a major since the last time the U.S. Open was on Long Island two years agoNBCSports/USGA |
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"He can't win all of them — at least I don't think he can," said Davis Love III late in 2000, after Woods had triumphed in three straight majors. There would be a fourth consecutive at the 2001 Masters — the historic "Tiger Slam" — but since then, Love has been proven right. Woods has shown he can't win 'em all. Even more, he's demonstrated that he can't win any of 'em, his drought in the majors having reached seven straight.OK, there's embellishment there, an impossible standard that he's being held to, but to some, it's not so significant that he hasn't won these majors as it is that he has only truly been in contention at two of them — the 2002 PGA Championship and the 2003 British Open. It was at Royal St. George's last summer that the law of averages seemed to truly resonate, because with a golden chance to win the British Open, Woods stumbled and helped open the door for Ben Curtis, of all people. The year before at Hazeline, though Woods played brilliantly down the stretch at the PGA Championship, the volatile Rich Beem, he of a mere two PGA Tour wins, failed to melt away in the spotlight. That used to happen all the time — opponents caving in to pressure the minute Woods's name appeared — but not Beem. And not Curtis. And not a lot of others, either. Vijay Singh, for instance, has played more brilliantly than Woods since the start of the 2003 season. In that period, the big guy from Fiji has seven wins, while Woods has six. Ernie Els, meanwhile, has 10 worldwide triumphs in that same period of time, including a week ago when he did something that he never used to do — he stormed into the winner's circle despite the looming presence of Woods. It was that win at the Memorial that was the latest indication that Woods has indeed lost an almost-mythical edge he used to have. Els is the same guy who acted as the ugly runner-up to Woods at two majors in 2000 — beaten badly in the U.S. Open at Pebble Beach and the British Open at St. Andrews. He's also the guy who was a playoff loser to Woods in a memorable Mercedes Championship to kick off the 2000 season, and who can forget the Johnnie Walker Classic in 1998 when Els had an eight-shot lead in the fourth round, only to lose to Woods in a playoff? Yet with the greatest champion the game has ever known — Jack Nicklaus — as host, Els was able to win a tournament he had never before won. At a venue, no less, that Woods used to own (his three-year winning streak came to an end in 2003). When Woods pulled into a tie midway through Round 4, observers surely figured the 15th club was at work. Wrong. Not in today's landscape; instead, Els brushed off Woods's presence, played splendidly on the inward nine, and pretty much scripted further proof that this is not your grandfather's "Tiger Woods PGA Tour" anymore. Three straight times Woods has come down the stretch with a chance to win, but the Wachovia Championship (Joey Sindelar), EDS Byron Nelson Championship (Sergio Garcia), and Memorial (Els) all slipped away. Having been undefeated in 17 tournaments in which he was the 36-hole leader, Woods got into that position at Wachovia and the Nelson, only to play poorly each time in Round 3 and fail to win. All the while, he has hit poor shots in clutch situations, shown flashes of his old Achilles —"distance control" — and been unable to virtually "will the ball into the hole," an unteachable talent he alone among his peers truly possessed. His opposition senses all of this, too. Mind you, they do not consider him the reincarnation of Chip Beck or a player inflicted with "Steve Blass disease," and maybe the swing changes will soon give way to more brilliance, but he no longer appears to be the immoveable force to his foes. While he'll still win his share of majors and regular PGA Tour events, never again will he dominate like he did from late 1999 to the summer of 2002. That's because for a variety of reasons, he has lost the mental edge he once possessed. But unlike the wrist that he once hurt at Shinnecock Hills, the current situation that has no remedy. It's permanent. He'll have to deal with it, like mortal golfers do. And even those immortal ones. Jim McCabe writes regularly for NBCSports.com and covers golf for the Boston Globe. |  | JT the Brick: It's make or break for Tiger |
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