Tiger's Putt, Ten Hours Later

I decided not to write anything about the Tiger Woods "birdie putt that was, that wasn't, THAT WAS!" until Monday morning to let it fully sink it.

I normally post things directly after they happen because that is what you do with news, you get it out as fast as possible so people can read your story first.

I thought with this, time might do it justice. See, I've watched Tiger Woods in just about every tournament he has played in, more for my obsession with golf than with Tiger. I like Tiger and think he's the best athlete in the world, golf be damned, but I normally try to be the one thinking of the whole field, not just one guy.

The putt yesterday changed all that. Words like "amazing" and "Dramatic" and "holy balls shit ass what the hell my head is hurting" just don't do it justice. You can't make that putt. Nobody makes that putt.

As I watched that golf tournament yesterday at my parent's house in East Texas, the whole time I got a different feel. Tiger wasn't charging. Some guy named Rocco Mediate wouldn't go away, like that thing you get in your eye that seems to be placed with Gorilla Glue. I watched and watched and the whole thing just felt different. Was this the tournament Tiger was going to lose? If so, does everything change now? Will he be leading majors Saturday night with the field actually thinking they had a chance, and not just in that "what we tell the media" way, but really thinking it?

I, ignorantly, thought so. I got myself believing Tiger might not pull this out. The anti-stars aligned on the 16th hole, when Tiger had hit a shot that, again, came up short. His chip shot, with the pin yanked, ran by five feet and I thought, "This is the tournament, miss this and even Tiger couldn't muster enough magic to birdie 17 and 18 or eagle the last. That would almost be illegal."

Tiger, of course, smoked that putt in the back of the cup and we had ourselves a good 'ol fashioned ballgame. After his second shot came up on 17, again, we had ourselves exactly what the USGA wanted, eagle to win, birdie to tie.

Lee Westwood's effort might be worth talking about, but not right now. Right now, it's Tiger.

He needed the fairway and found a fairway...bunker. He needed short grass and found grass, just long stuff that had the remnants of an old divot. He needed it close and it hit close, but not Tiger close. He wanted dead center and it found the center, but after a "Mickelson at the 2004 Masters" like lip catch.

It wasn't a typical day for Woods. He struggled with his knee, with the course, and once again a foe that seemed as likely as his loss. None of it added up in my Tiger Calculator, but the sum came up the same.

One guy, One Tiger, One more day.

Sex on a secluded beach in early June with two cold drinks and the winning Powerball ticket in your pocket doesn't get better than that. Tiger is why people scream and cry about sports. He is entertainment to the max. He is one man, making a sport more exciting than any other.

Nice putt Mr. Woods, I'm excited to get you for one more day. Do us well, ya hear? No point in getting everyone all hot and bothered for nothing.

Photo Credit:Chris O'Meara, AP