The consensus seems to be that Tiger will not only win but will also fail to flatter to deceive in his quest for the holy grail in golf. Nowhere near winning, he is still always the story; the galleries for him are 10 times larger than for the leaders. He does not enter sundry events which other greats like Mickelson/Els/Westwood/et al routinely play; he appears stand offish, participating in only the more important tournaments where the competition is arguably stronger. He does not realise he must play more and only against himself to learn to win again. Is that going to happen?
In a “only winning” obsessed sports world, great success attracts great wealth, titles, media attention, fame and all of these together can distract one from one’s original purpose. Tiger became so dominant, he felt that he would never have challengers. He suffered the sin of Hubris. Further, rather than remembering the swing that is authentic to him, he keeps trying to create a new swing. His prodigious talent allows him that but now that there are dozens to challenge him, not the couple or five who could beat him on any given day, his biggest challenge is himself. Where one plays “only to win” rather than playing the game (win, or not win) the outcome can frustrate. Thus, when Tiger shot a horrendous 40 after nine in the opening round in 1997, O’Meara advised him “play like you are just playing with me, enjoy yourself”. The result was a 22 under in the next 63 holes, all records broken and, from 5.32 pm on April 11, 1997, when Tiger first took the lead, the game of tournament golf changed for ever. “Something just came over me and I relaxed,” said Tiger. He had rediscovered his swing.
For someone who dominated the game so comprehensively, to not be in serious contention in any tournament, is surely a function of having “lost his swing”. But how and why did he lose it? Maybe Indian gurus (rishis), the legendary Bagger Vance and sports psychologists have an answer.
The “rishis”, by their mental and physical penances developed such powers that the gods felt a threat to the order of things as ordained by them. They sent down “apsaras” (celestial courtesans, skilled in the delivery of every kind of sensory pleasure) to distract the rishis. The rishis often lost themselves in such pleasures for years until they would suddenly realise that their true purpose was eluding them. The “apsaras” were ejected and their mental and physical penances recommenced in the quest to discover their true, authentic self.
Does this sound familiar? Tiger has similarly lost his authentic self (his swing) in the context of golf, and now must regain it mindfully.
Two things are required for success: Self-confidence and self-discipline. Seeking social confidence off the course will weaken your discipline on the course, because at critical moments, thoughts will remember the pleasures of yesterday or of those coming later. As we all know, every thought has consequences. Stars in other games also indulge in off-course shenanigans, but they do not lose their performance because they are playing against someone else. In all other sports, the opponent is the enemy; it is only in golf that we ourselves are the enemy. The ball reacts to your shot, of course, but also to the “FIELD”. The pure player, which Tiger was, surveys the field (not the opponents), captures the nuances of the living, breathing golf course, taking into account all the gross forces (the elements such as wind, rain, sun, etc) and the subtle forces (energy flows, rhythms and memories, etc.) which all intertwine to demand a particular shot for a particular result. That particular result can best be achieved if the player merges his own consciousness into the field so that the required shot selects the required swing from the player which is then executed as though it is independent of our bodies, on another plane of reality.
This puts us in the realm of flawless instincts, which all non-humans appear to naturally have, to move and play in harmony with the field. A sports psychologist essentially attempts to bring the “will” into the “zone”. to rediscover and remember what you always were. He teaches the “lost” that great athletes are “yogis”, who perform best when their minds and bodies are harmonised, at each critical moment, with a cosmic whole, and that this is an elevated reality.
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If all this sounds laughable to you as the causal golfer, you might just cast your mind back to the most fantastic shot you have ever hit, the one that sliced the fairway in half and carried an incredible distance, or the 90-foot impossible curling putt that you knew would drop the moment you struck it; you had accidentally tripped into that elevated reality, before tripping right out again. You know that if you could stay there for the entire round, you could take on ….. why? Tiger Woods himself! You yearn to always swing like that and so you keep coming back to this sport of sports, which has only yourself as the opponent.
The agony of Tiger at so many poor shots, seldom relieved by great shots nowadays, is reflected in occasional expletives, club abuse, and tight facial muscles. It was not always so, and it need not be again.
And so, it would appear that despite enormous goodwill for Tiger (there is also ill-will, no doubt), the judgement by many that he will not be the Masters champion in 2011, is correct.
Come on Tiger, surprise us: Prove us all wrong!
