It's 10 years since Tiger Woods strode up the hill at Augusta for the first time, and changed golf forever
YOU might have heard of Paul Goydos. Lowkey American journeyman who flies beneath the radar. A couple of months ago, Goydos surprised a lot of people including himself by winning the Sony Open and recording his first PGA Tour victory since 1996. Towards the end of that year, he had been asked one of the staple questions of golf writers with a desperate need to fill some space: who did he think was the best player who had yet to win a major?
Without any hesitation, Goydos replied, "Tiger Woods".
In 1996, that wasn't a stock answer. Back then, Woods might have been the most famous 20-year-old Stanford drop-out of all time, but he hadn't even played in a major championship as a professional.
Yet, Goydos sensed something, and so too did Gary van Sickle of Sports Illustrated in October of '96 when Woods beat Davis Love in a play-off at the Las Vegas Invitational to capture his first tournament as a pro. "Golf as we know it is over, " wrote Van Sickle.
Not long after, the phrase had proved itself to be eerily prescient. On 13 April, 1997, Woods strode up the hill at Augusta's finishing hole, and into history.
If, at 21, he was the youngest Masters champion ever, and if he broke the 72hole scoring record, and if his winning margin of 12 strokes was the widest ever, the minutiae of his triumph were soon to be eclipsed by the bigger picture.
It was a moment that changed the way the game was perceived. This was the elevation of power, finesse, and mental strength to a new level. The victory spawned a new obsession with distance off the tee as the manufacturers scrambled to develop big-headed drivers and golf balls that flew further and further.
As for the elite players, the New Yorker essayist David Owen reckoned that Woods was soon responsible for the "hardened pectorals and diminished social lives" of his opponents.
While, unlike Muhammad Ali, he would go on to be defined more in terms of his sheer excellence than for any political position, he still shook the foundations of the Masters tournament.
Although Augusta and its southern-state grandees had made some concessions to change in the real world, a white player accompanied by a black caddie was the quintessential image of the event.
Now a brilliant young black player led the way while his white caddie followed.
With most of the world's best players scattered in his wake, and with one of the world's most famous and most intimidating courses brought to its knees, golf was almost cool. The Tiger Woods era had begun.
When he believes golf or life has conspired to deal him a bad hand, Colin Montgomerie's behaviour can be worse than that of a bold schoolboy, but during that Masters week 10 years ago, he was the one player with enough perception to be able to bottle Woods's lightning.
Coming into his first major, Woods had already won four events and, tuning up for Augusta, he had shot a 59 around his home course at Isleworth in Orlando which included pars at two of the par fives. If no one doubted his exceptional talent, the overwhelming verdict was that he would have to serve an apprenticeship at the game's prestigious tournaments.
Certainly, when he covered the first nine in a mistakeridden 40 strokes, it seemed as if expectation had done its damnedest, however, Woods recovered. He trailed by three after a 70, led by three after a 66, and then gaining remorselessly in confidence, the margin had ballooned out to nine by the end of a thirdround 65.
As Woods's playing partner, Montgomerie, then Europe's number one and already a loser in play-offs at both the US Open and USPGA championships, had a close-up view of that 65.
Asked for his thoughts by journalists, he cut to the chase.
"All I have to say is one brief comment today. There is no chance. We're all human beings here, but there's no chance humanly possible that Tiger is just going to lose this tournament. No way."
Only a year after a doomed Greg Norman had gone into the final round with a six-shot lead over Nick Faldo, one reporter wanted to know why Montgomerie was so sure of his ground. "Have you just come in, or have you been away? Have you been on holiday or something, or have you just arrived?" the exasperated Scot responded.
"Greg Norman's not Tiger Woods."
Then Montgomerie was reminded that he himself had mentioned that Woods might not have been experienced enough to hold on to the lead at such a pressurised tournament as the Masters. But now, after what he had seen at first hand, Montgomerie had changed his mind. "He is [experienced enough], " he concluded, and left the interview room.
After playing with Woods in the first round, Faldo had stumbled to an 81 the following day. Montgomerie was equally resigned, also falling to an 81 in the final round after his initial glimpse of golf 's future.
It wouldn't be long before Ernie Els and Phil Mickelson had succumbed to the same aura.
Tradition has it that most Masters titles are won on the back nine on Sunday. Woods had won his first by that Saturday evening. Taking his customary impish view, Sports Illustrated's Rick Reilly wrote that Tom Kite finished second, 12 shots behind, in the same sense that Germany had finished second in the second world war.
Woods would go on to destroy the field by 15 strokes at the 2000 US Open at Pebble Beach, and by eight at St Andrews in the same year, but there was less wide-eyed disbelief then as in 1997.
His drives bulleted through Augusta's humid air like no one's before him, his short irons were crisp and, apart from that fumbling first nine, remarkably accurate, and on a course whose greens had induced fear for generations, there was not a single threeputt. In his pomp, Ben Hogan used to lay up with a three iron at the par-five 13th hole, but now Woods was coming in with a short iron for his second shot. The 15th, where Seve Ballesteros had famously bowed out in 1986 with a four iron into the water, was reduced to a drive and a wedge.
"It's time to fire up the bulldozers, buy the strip malls on Washington Road and redesign the placef Augusta needs the full-metal overhaul, " was how Tim Rosaforte saw it in Golf World magazine. "It needs US Open vegetation or it's going to be a one-man tournament until Tiger Woods gets bored and decides to take up baseball."
By 1999, Augusta had rough for the first time in its existence, and later trees would be moved and fairways narrowed in an effort to protect the course. In 1997, the overall length was 6,925 yards whereas now it is 7,445 yards, and Woods has still managed to win three more titles in the meantime.
A month after his stunning victory, the PGA Tour commissioner, Tim Finchem, signed off on a record-breaking television deal, and just as Augusta has been stretched to deal with Woods and the power-hitters who have followed in his footsteps, prize money on the American tour has risen from $71m in 1996 to almost $270m this season.
After the tournament that changed the face of modern golf, Tom Callahan, author of the insightful In Search of Tiger commented on how Woods had quickly separated himself from the competition.
"He's in their heads, " said Callahan.
Ten years on, and 10 days before the start of another Masters, he still is.
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