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Then, stroke after stroke, win after win, he lived up to that hype, shattered our expectations and became an elite superstar. He was larger than life with corporate endorsement dollars spilling out of his golf bag. He garnered an IMG entourage of 'handlers' and a celebrity status that admittedly made him feel entitled. Too entitled. Sigh. We were disappointed, but so what? This is nothing new. We've seen this happen in other sports and after the initial shock of a scandal outside the lines (Kobe), he'll dust off his demons and step back into the sanctuary of his craft. A public apology and an exclusive interview and then he's welcomed back by the galleries. He's the next comeback story, right? Perhaps that will happen. Still, golf fans are inexplicably disappointed with the situation. Are we just naive, lacking a mature perspective and blinded by his celebrity grandeur? Possibly. But most of us would agree that Tiger doesn't owe us anything, least of all an explanation for what he does off the course. Yet we're still shaking our collective heads. Why is this? The reason is simple: In golf, it's harder to separate the athlete from the man than in any other sport. Unlike other sports fans, golf fans have a unique "link" to the game and its professionals. Few baseball fans will ever have the opportunity to hit a Major League fastball out of Wrigley or hit a 3-pointer in Madison Square Garden, but as long as we have a couple hundred bucks to poney up, we can - just days after Phil and Tiger - make birdies at Pebble Beach and Torrey Pines. Granted, we aren’t breaking 70 and competing against the world’s best every week. The first professional golf tournament I ever attended was at Bellerive Country Club in St. Louis. As I stepped onto the course, I looked on in awe as I saw Sergio Garcia and Ernie Els hit their second shots up to the elevated 10th green - a green I had approached myself on a number of occasions. I had been there before. Literally with golf club in hand, debating my shot up towards the clubhouse. (Note: I had also once used this green's slope for sled-riding on cafeteria lunch trays when I skipped morning assemblies at my neighboring high-school.) The point is, we can play on the same courses as the pros and we get far closer to pro golfers than any other professional athlete we might pay to see.
We can walk 18 holes with Tiger and stand just feet from him, standing in the fairways he hits or huddled around his ball in the rough as he and Stevie debate the next shot. This access draws us in and establishes a personal connection to the professionals struggling with a game - and sometimes a course - that we struggle with on the weekend. Sure, this connection is probably one-sided and a bit nostalgic, but its still there and plays a major role in why and how we consume the sport of golf. While it doesn't justify our disappointment, it helps explain it. It's the 300-yard driving force behind the sport's marketing and explains why one man can mean so much to corporate sponsors. Unfortunately, it also explains why one man can mean so much to his fans.
