Like many Americans, I spent part of yesterday glued to the TV watching the Master’s Tournament from Augusta. As a result I saw one of the best hours of TV golf I’ve ever seen. But I was only partially interested in the golf. I, like many, was there to watch Tiger Woods make his return to the stage. It was the right time, the right place, and he was ready. I was pleased to hear the crowds welcome him with applause, cheers, and to see the smiles on their faces. Their champion was back, and those who take golf seriously could breathe a little sigh of relief. We saw no bandages, crutches, or physical wounds. He still looked trim, fit, and as athletic as ever.
But there was more to be seen. There was pain, uncharacteristic nervousness, and a tension that affected his demeanor. He smiled at the fans more, held back on his usual explosions when he screwed up a shot, and restrained himself when he was brilliant. It was clear to anyone who was watching with an open mind and a warm heart that Tiger is still in therapy. He will be for a long time. And, to be honest, we are in therapy with him.
No, we don’t have to go off to a secluded site filled with therapists. We don’t have to ask a sponsor to travel with us to whisper encouragement in our ears. We don’t have to pay the huge fees he is paying to get his life straight. But we have work to do along with him, and this weekend is just the beginning. Tiger’s problem is partly our problem.
Ever since that kid from Stanford University walked into our lives we have adored him, shouted out our joy at his success, and paid big bucks to make sure he was there on weekends all summer to entertain us and give us an athletic hero to worship. We jumped on the “reach for the stars” bandwagon and surrounded him with surrealistic expectations and adulation. We told our children and grandchildren that they should emulate him and we tried to mimic him on the practice ranges around the country. His pedestal became higher and more fragile every time he took the stage. It was only a matter of time before it crumbled.
I’m not saying his indiscretions were undertaken with our consent or even our knowledge, as it turns out. He did that all on his own, and he will live with the consequences for the rest of his life. But the atmosphere to which we contributed made it all possible for him. We own part of the blame. You may not own that, but I do.
In the same way, we own part of the therapy. And let’s be clear…if you have never been through therapy, it isn’t fun. It was not some mystical Zen experience in a hot tub in Southern California. To have your very being stripped down to a painful, naked exposure before professionals and peers is excruciating. The mirror which is hung before you is cruel and demoralizing at times. The requirement of absolute truth, with no embellishments, is devastating. For a man who was the ultimate example of control, it is an exercise in letting go and letting someone else take control of his life. It is humiliating and humbling. Those who doubt Tiger’s humility these days just don’t get it. There is no last step. “Recovery” is not a word that exists. It is replaced by “recovering” to symbolize the reality that this is an ongoing, never-ending process. Cliches such as “One day at a time” take on a new meaning and are no longer trivial.
Our part in this on-going therapy is not all fun and games either. We don’t have to scream and whistle our approval of Tiger; but we must give him encouragement. We don’t have to approve of his behavior over the past few years; but we must give him time and space to develop a new life style without all the transgressions. We don’t have to remain fans if we don’t want to; but those of us who remain have to adopt a healthier behavior about what it means to be his fans.
I was thrilled that he did so well yesterday. He’s within striking distance of winning the green coat again. He may not get there, and his biggest competitor, Phil Mickelson, who was brilliant yesterday, may justifiably walk away with it. But to have missed the first quarter of the season and then step on the stage and end the day in top five players is a huge statement about his talent…and his work on his inner being. His eyes were not the frozen, focused eyes of the past. He’s going to have to work on that focus issue over the next weeks. But I don’t miss the coldness. I saw fragility in his eyes, and I hope that, too, will disappear. I hope he regains confidence and strength.
But if Tiger Woods is going to regain his stature as the athlete we know him to be it is going to be up to all of us to play our parts as people who know what he is going through and respect his willingness to do it. Other PGA golfers with huge problems have snubbed their noses at the thought of therapy and have continued their destructive behavior. He has chosen to become a better person. I hope we let him do that.
Photo Credit: redstick
