The Spartacus reference might have been a bit over the top, but the spot touched a nerve and cemented the legend of Tiger as the vessel into which a generation of Americans could pour their hopes and dreams. Child prodigy sired by a mixed-race army lieutenant colonel who served in Vietnam. An omniracial gentleman rising up through talents half-given by God and half-earned by grit. The best America can offer.

Tiger has matured and the worship has mellowed to something less overwhelming. He's had the odd slump . . .

by which is meant that he only wins 80% of the time.

Critics said he wasn't being enough of a racial role model.

They said he should be more like Jackie Robinson, who batted through racial barriers in America's favourite sport, baseball, and other black players followed. (Forgetting that Robinson was a complex character who supported some Republican presidential candidates and refused to let his commitment to equal rights for all be hijacked by any narrow political agenda . . . but that's another story. ) They said he should be more strident in demanding greater support for other golfers of colour and demand an end to men-only golf clubs everywhere on the planet. As if the latter were on a par with racially segregated buses and the former ignoring Tiger's support for inner-city kids in 30 US states through programmes started by his charitable foundation.

There have even been cheap shots questioning Tiger's patriotism, because he cheered for tennis player Roger Federer . . . apparently a non-American of some kind . . .

over compatriot competitors at the last US Open. They even hung out together afterwards.

But no one had been foolish enough to come after Tiger's wife, Elin Nordegren. Until this week.

Tiger and his wife are quite serious about defending their privacy, even as public figures.

Two years ago, they sued a shipyard for $50m after it broke a confidentiality clause and revealed to a trade magazine that they had built a 155ft yacht for Woods.

So we had sideby-side spectacles at the K Club before the Ryder Cup properly began. Stormy conditions prompted the underdog US team to engage in pitch-and-putt practice that left fans enraged, leaving the well-heeled, superbly winedand-dined corporate hospitality guests (hardly a throng of impoverished urchins) feeling sufficiently victimised by this imagined snub to boo and holler at the Yanks.

On the same day, Tiger bared his teeth and defended his wife's honour. You could hear the doublespeak in the Liveline phone-in voices. Terrible what they did to Tiger.

But those Americans should not have let that bother them . . . they should have shown more respect for the Irish people. (As if the US team had used the tricolour to clean the mud from their golf spikes and stirred their gin with the bones of Wolfe Tone. Pathetic. ) Liveline's Joe Duffy knew that something was amiss here. Other golfers' wives were named in the piece. Why all the focus on Tiger? Why, even when those 'fans', lubricated by corporate hospitality, can indulge in some mild bashing of the lazy arrogant non-teeing-off Yanks, do we identify with Tiger?

Besides the fact that it was his wife that suffered the fake photo indignity, it's because . . .

he's Tiger. Tiger Woods is a . . .

perhaps the . . . symbol of the sort of America we want to believe is still possible. Talent tempered by discipline. Inclusive but not politically correct. Rich through effort, not inheritance. Humble beginnings and the empathy that comes with them. Power with honour. And still the kind of guy with whom you want to go for a pint.

For this American, it felt good to see many people in my adoptive country feel protective of the man who means so much to so many.