A Wild Tiger Makes Debut

The gallery called out his name, but his name belonged to the rough.

Tiger Woods they could call it.

Off the tee and into the trees--more often than not, that was the flight pattern for young Tiger, who turned the first couple hours of his historic PGA debut Thursday into a wide-roaming nature hike through the gullies and over the barrancas of the Riviera Country Club course.

Another tall eucalyptus was staring Tiger in the face following his drive on No. 13. His ball lay at the base of the tree, nestled behind a huge exposed root, separated from a gravel footpath by scarcely a yard.

More trees surrounded him from the front. Dozens of spectators closed in from the rear. Two hundred yards away, a yellow flag could almost be seen.

Tiger studied the foliage, squinted out toward the fairway, examined his predicament and turned around to face the crowd.

He held out his eight-iron, looking for a taker.

“Anybody want to hit this shot?”

Everybody laughed and, seconds later, everybody gasped. Tiger drilled that eight-iron through the branches of a pine tree, sending wounded needles flying, and out onto the fairway, where the bounding ball stopped about 60 feet shy of the pin.

“Yeah, that’s what I would have done,” a voice from the gallery deadpanned.

Woods was set up to save par, which he did, which was basically all he did during his first-round tour of the Los Angeles Open on the day he became the youngest player (16 years, 2 months) to compete in a PGA event.

Woods birdied only one hole, the first. He bogeyed only two--the sixth, a par three that he bunkered, and the ninth, a par four that sent him tromping through the forest again.

Other than that, it was hit into trouble, hit out of trouble. He did it often and he did it well--so well that he found himself bending over a birdie putt on No. 18 that would have left him at par for the day.

Woods missed it by . . . that much. His nine-footer hit the side of the cup and hooked out, Woods falling into an anguished crouch as his score climbed to a one-over 72, eight strokes off the pace.

Not bad, but not nearly what he wanted.

“My goal was a 69,” he said as he frowned for the cameras in front of the leader board, where mass mayhem impersonated an impromptu press conference, leaving Woods to fend for himself against 50 or so media types.

“I’m not happy with my score. . . . I hit the ball terribly, but I somehow survived.”

Tiger was in a less than loquacious mood. His score pained him. So did his back, which he wrenched while lofting a ball out of a gully on No. 11. The crush of reporters that had him blanketed and straitjacketed--that was a pain positioned slightly lower.

What did he think of his first taste of the PGA?

“It’s just a regular tournament,” he said. “I had some jitters early but they went away. The only thing different was the gallery.”

What about that gallery, which, at about 500, was biggest of the day, outdrawing even the tape-measure blasts of John Daly? Did the reception surprise him?

“No.”

What did he think of his wild ride on 18, highlighted by a sensational approach shot that made his birdie attempt feasible?

“It was different.”

About that sensational approach shot, which caused Woods to thrust both arms triumphantly in the air?

“I hit it perfect.”

And what did he think of the PGA press corps, who had him encircled and clearly were not making his day?

Finally, a smile.

“I can’t find my way out of here.”

For the last time Thursday, Woods looked to his caddie for some help.

“It’s cheeseburger time!” Ron Mathews ad-libbed as he reached in to grab Tiger by the arm and pull him into a golf cart. Earl Woods, Tiger’s father, also climbed in and the getaway cart made its escape, whirring its way to the tournament fitness trailer, where Tiger was headed to receive treatment on his back.

It had to be overwhelming. A skinny kid, barely old enough for a driver’s permit, was driving alongside the likes of Craig Stadler, Mark O’Meara, Lanny Wadkins and Tom Weiskopf--and out-driving the other members of his threesome, tour players Robert Friend and Dicky Thompson. Woods is a sophomore at Western High School. Wednesday night, he prepared for the L.A. Open by finishing his homework. The next morning, he was surrounded everywhere he went and every turn he took.

Bumping into bodies as he tried to move from the eighth green to the ninth tee, Thompson’s caddie muttered, “I knew there’d be some people out for this, but this is ridiculous.”

One body among the hundreds was Don Crosby, the Western varsity golf coach, who tried to explain the Tiger Woods phenomenon--the boy and the wonder.

“He can do anything he wants,” Crosby said as he watched Woods line up a shot on the 14th fairway. “He can be as good as the goals he has set for himself all along the way, and that’s to be as good as Nicklaus. . . .

“He does everything. He’s strong on the fairways, on the greens, in the rough.”

Crosby paused as Woods approached the green.

“He’s probably disappointed with the way he’s playing today--he’s missed more fairways than I’ve ever seen him miss. But many times I’ve seen him go on runs where he hits five birdies in a row. He could get one here, if he sinks a putt right now. Right now. “

The putt was out of earshot. By inches, it teased the cup again.

“Boy,” Crosby said with a sigh, “he’s been close all day.”

Afterward, Mathews marveled that Woods was as close as he had been.

“The kid had every right to be six over,” Mathews said. “Six over, easy. But he made six putts from eight to 10 feet that were beautiful. He has ice in his veins.”

Earl Woods, proud father and making no attempt to hide it, issued a warning before the same cast reassembled today for Round 2.

“Tiger was constantly in trouble and he constantly kept fighting his way out,” he said. “He can get out of jail with no key.

“When he starts hitting fairways, he’ll add 20 to 40 yards on his driver, and when he starts hitting greens, he’ll start putting by intuition. That’s when he’ll start putting five, six birdies together. . . .

“You haven’t seen the real Tiger yet. He has an awful lot more to his game than he showed today. That’s not putting pressure on him. That’s a fact.”

Listening in, Mathews nodded. The caddie displayed Woods’ economy-sized golf bag, half as big as the ones the pros use, as modest as the next 16-year-old’s. For Mathews, it makes for a lighter burden than usual.

For Woods, however, the burden never lessens.

“He’s got a lot of game in this bag,” Mathews said. “See these head covers? I told him to stick with them. They’re going to go to the Hall of Fame together.”