Winnipeg Free Press

Winnipeg Free Press (Newspaper) - April 13, 2020, Winnipeg, Manitoba C M Y K PAGE C2 C 2 MONDAY, APRIL 13, 2020 ? WINNIPEGFREEPRESS.COMSPORTS I GOLF T HE 2019 Masters isn't really defined by a single shot or even a particular image of Tiger Woods, arms over his head, euphoria on his face, the gallery once again chanting his name. There was no long birdie putt at 18, no heroic recovery shot in the closing holes. Rather, it is defined by a feeling. The tournament flipped when the prevailing vibe changed from, "Can he? Will he?" to "Whoa, it's really going to happen." That feeling is when the questions about Tiger Woods melted away, and the certainties he once represented resurfaced. Almost two hours of the final round remained. It started not so much with a shot as with a decision, and it was illustrated in the ensuing walk: His two playing partners went to the right, and Woods strode to the left, separating himself once again. The walk came off the 12th tee at Augusta National Golf Club, as iconic a hole as there is in the sport. Woods arrived at the tee trailing by two shots. For so many years at so many major championships, he had created the feeling of inevitability, force-feeding the results to the rest of the field. In many of those major championships, the question wasn't whether he would win, only how. The 2019 Masters will be remem- bered as the conclusion of Woods's comeback story, writ large, and right- fully so. His body had been broken so badly that during a four-and-a-half year stretch spanning 2014-18, he sat out more major championships (10) than he participated in (eight), and when he showed up he missed more cuts (five) than he made (three). His reputation had been broken by both a tawdry infidelity scandal and an arrest for driving under the influence. In the 11-year period from 1997 through 2008, Woods seemed invin- cible in winning 14 majors, certain to overtake Jack Nicklaus's record of 18. In the decade thereafter, he had two kids, one divorce, four back surgeries, and zero majors. He came to Augusta last April as a 43-year-old former champion with a receding hairline, with his best chances for a fifth green jacket behind him, his daughter and son familiar with his triumphs only from archival tape. "Prior to this comeback," Woods said after the final round, "they only knew that golf caused me a lot of pain." With no Masters this week because of the coronavirus pandemic, it's worth remembering that Woods' fifth green jacket and 15th major title weren't secured without a comeback over four days and a final round to complete the comeback that now will help define his career. It's worth remembering the depths from which he came with his health, particularly with his debilitat- ing back. It's worth remembering that he arrived at the 12th hole trailing by two and left the green tied for the lead. And it's worth remembering he changed possibility to probability to that familiar inevitability not with a particular swing, but with his unri- valled mind. The Masters just oozes optimism. It has to do with the timing, just as spring is officially putting behind win- ter's chill across most of the U.S. It has to do with the azaleas popping, provid- ing colour after all that gray. It has to do with Jim Nantz's, "Hello, friends," inviting and soothing. And last April, it had to do with Tiger Woods. "I've seen him do things with a golf ball and perform at a level higher than anything I've seen in the game," said Phil Mickelson, Woods's longtime spar- ring partner and a three-time Masters champ himself, on the Tuesday before the tournament began. "I just would never rule him out." The vibes Woods engendered were based not on years-old evidence, but on the previous September, when he won the Tour Championship for his first victory of any kind since 2013. His body, for once, wasn't betraying him. Yes, it was just a 30-man field. But for someone for whom winning was once just a byproduct of merely playing, doing it again after a five-year drought mattered. Woods began his 22nd Masters just after 11 a.m. last April 11, joining Li Haotong of China and Jon Rahm of Spain. He turned in precisely the kind of opening round that, in a former life, could have portended good fortune ahead: a 2-under 70. The final three groups of the day produced the rounds that held the lead - 66s from Bryson Dechambeau and Brooks Koepka, and 67 from Mickelson. But Woods was much more in it than he was out of it. "I did all the things I needed to do today to post a good number," he said afterward. No moment from the first two rounds stands out more than his second shot at the difficult par-4 14th. Woods had driven the ball into the left trees, and he had a scant window through which to play his approach. He lashed at the ball in the pinestraw, and as he stepped away, a security guard slipped and col- lided with Woods's ankle. Woods limped, flexed the ankle, and grimaced. But his response was twofold: He made the unlikely birdie putt that awaited him on the green. And afterward, when asked about the incident, he said simply: "It's all good. Accidents happen." Translation: Little things won't bother me this week. I'm back to being Tiger Woods. By Saturday night, Francesco Mo- linari was the leader. He birdied four straight on the back nine. He had made just one bogey all week. His 66 left him at 13 under. Tony Finau shot 64 to reach 11 under. And Woods, with his own 67, tied him there. There were sentimental reasons to believe, but plenty of factual ones to be skeptical. Not only was Molinari, who had beaten Woods at the British Open the previous summer, playing flawlessly, but it was well documented that each of Woods's 14 major champi- onships had come when he entered the final round either leading by himself or tied for the lead. He had never come from behind, the very task that lay ahead. Plus, golf had changed in the course of Woods's decade-long major drought. The players who had seemingly been intimidated by Woods's mere presence had moved on. The stars who replaced them watched Woods's greatness on TV growing up, but hadn't witnessed much of it at their expense. "It's not like I can only worry about him," Molinari said that Saturday eve- ning. "I think there's a lot of guys with a chance." Many journalists have covered more Masters than I have (nine), and so many had chronicled more of Woods's major championships than I had before last year (zero). My first major as the golf writer at The Post happened to be the 2009 Masters - Woods's first major after the 2008 U.S. Open, which last April remained his most recent major title. Golfers talk about learning Augusta National's quirks over time. With 21 trips behind him, Woods knew where to miss and where not to, how every putt would break, what the breeze through a certain stand of trees would affect a ball. The same principle applies for writers: Experience brings wisdom, even in watching a round. Walk down the right side of No. 2, not the left, and don't go all the way to the green, but look down from the midpoint of the hill. Stay on the slope above the green at the par-3 sixth. And so on. There was a smart way to follow a round, just as there was a smart way to play one. At the final round of the 2019 Mas- ters, the normal Sunday flow changed - for golfers and those who wrote about them. The previous afternoon, as the leaders worked their way around the back nine, tournament officials an- nounced that forecasts of bad weather for later Sunday would push the final round from evening until morning. The field would begin play from both the first and 10th tees. The final round would be contested in threesomes rather than the traditional pairs. And rather than teeing off around 3 p.m. the final group would begin at 9:20 a.m. For a sports-watching nation, this made for adjusted viewing habits. For many of us covering the event, it fundamentally changed the experi- ence - and the job. Though covering the Masters is my favorite sportswrit- ing week of the year, it can feel like something of a fraudulent exercise. Two elements conspire against you: an always-looming newspaper deadline, and the sprawling nature of an event in which the most significant moment could come from any player on any hole in any number of groups. The result: For each of the previous Masters I had covered, I watched the back nine on Saturday and Sunday on television from the media building. It was the only way to write a story as the tournament developed so it could be filed just as it ended, and it was the only way to keep track of everything that was going on. But because of those threatening thunderstorms last year, as long as I could be reasonably assured the win- ner would come from the final group of Molinari, Finau and Woods - well, shoot, I could walk the back nine with the leaders for the first time. The gates opened at 7:15 a.m., and the spectators poured through. The energy was different. "Everybody wants to see Tiger Woods win more majors, because he moves the needle like nobody playing golf today," Nicklaus said on the morn- ing of the first round. He thought back to Tiger's win at the Tour Champion- ship, when the galleries fell in behind Woods as he walked up the 18th fair- way to finish it off. "I don't think I ever saw excitement like that, even when Arnold was at his best," Nicklaus said. "Because they knew what he had gone through and how he had struggled, and everybody likes to see a man make a great come- back." Successfully following Woods at the Masters is more difficult than follow- ing any other player. BARRY SVRLUGA Tiger Woods ' 'Return to Glory' at the 2019 Masters centred around his unrivalled mind Such a know-it-all DAVID J. PHILLIP / THE ASSOCIATED PRESS FILES Tiger Woods blazing to victory in his Sunday red at the 2019 Masters, a scene once so familiar, was never more stunning than it was a year ago at Augusta National. MATT SLOCUM / THE ASSOCIATED PRESS FILES ? CONTINUED ON C3 'Prior to this comeback they only knew that golf caused me a lot of pain' - Tiger, on his two children finally being able to see him at his best and celebrating with him C_02_Apr-13-20_FP_01.indd C2 2020-04-12 8:29 PM ;