Woods Didn’t Win, but He Didn’t Lose

If you took the Masters field against Tiger Woods, congratulations.

The field won.

Mark O’Meara, best known until Sunday as Woods’ best friend, wears the traditional green jacket today, but it could have been anybody.

If O’Meara hadn’t steered a 20-foot birdie putt into the hole on the 72nd hole, Fred Couples or David Duval might have won. If they had staggered once or twice more on the second nine, it might have been Jim Furyk or Paul Azinger.

Even David Toms, a 21-year-old Louisianian who would have felt more at home Sunday at the other tournament in Shreveport, La., flirted with the lead after tying a Masters record with six birdies in a row.

So did a 58-year-old from Ohio who could barely walk the second nine because of a degenerative hip, a marvelous accomplishment even for a six-time winner such as Jack Nicklaus.

All of those players finished ahead of Woods. Three others tied him at three-under par 285, six strokes behind O’Meara. Last year, no player here came within 12 strokes of Woods. This year, only four players didn’t.

No offense to O’Meara, but last year was better.

Nearing the end of a century in which we have found cures for numerous diseases and are steadfastly pursuing others, it was nice to believe that someone had conquered golf.

But golf does not surrender so easily, as anyone from Mark Twain to Nicklaus could tell you. Between 1963 and ‘66, Nicklaus won three Masters and tied for second in the other. In 1967, he missed the cut.

As incredible as Woods’ record-breaking, 18-under par victory was here last year, he appears in the record books today merely as one of 14 different winners in the last 14 majors. The last 13 PGA tournaments have produced 13 different winners, not one of them Woods.

So who is the best golfer in the world today?

Tiger Woods.

Who did you think?

O’Meara?

He’s the first to acknowledge he’s only the second-best player in his Windermere, Fla., neighborhood. He lives next door to Woods.

Even if O’Meara didn’t win his first major until Sunday, in his 18th year on the PGA Tour, he has had an outstanding career, with 15 tournament championships and four Ryder Cups.

But he confessed Sunday that he still asks Woods for strokes.

When Woods, as last year’s champion, presented his neighbor with the green jacket in the Butler Cabin, he told O’Meara, “That’s it. Now you’re the champion. You need to give me strokes.”

“I don’t think so, Tiger,” O’Meara said. “Good try.”

None of the pros are likely to feel sympathy for Woods. After winning six tournaments in his first 11 months on the tour, he hasn’t won one since July. Before Sunday, he hadn’t scored under 70 in 10 consecutive rounds.

Masters officials talked for 12 months about whether they should “Tiger-ize” their course, then let the wind do it for them. Woods, who hits the ball off the tee too high and is too precise in the fairways to be efficient in the wind, fought to finish the first two rounds at one-under par. When the wind died Saturday, he discovered that his swing had gone awry and gained no strokes on par.

But although he was five shots out of first place, he was the player the leaders saw Sunday when they looked over their shoulders.

“I certainly wouldn’t count Tiger out,” Nicklaus said, remembering when everyone used to say that about him.

As it turned out, the leaders should have been watching Nicklaus.

Woods, playing one hole ahead of the boisterous gallery’s sentimental favorite, said he was distracted by the applause for Nicklaus.

“I still had a chance to win if I’d had the start Jack had,” Woods said after shooting his best score of the week, a two-under 70.

Woods was disappointed, having excused his winless record for the last nine months by saying he would be ready by the second week of April. But now he has learned that not even he can turn his game on and off whenever the occasion calls for it.

O’Meara said Woods also is learning another lesson, how to deal with his enormous fame since last year’s Masters.

“I have no desire at all to trade places with Tiger Woods,” said O’Meara, who was mistaken for fellow pro Mark McCumber in a restaurant here last week.

“I have nothing but admiration for the way he plays the game of golf. But his sacrifices as a human being. . . . you know, people say I’d love to be Tiger Woods or Michael Jordan or Ken Griffey Jr. or all these superstars. But, in life, you need to know who you are.”

Who is Woods?

“My feeling toward Tiger will always be, ‘Look, you’ve had it since you were 8 years old; just go play golf; you keep playing golf and maturing,’ ” O’Meara said.

“He hasn’t even come close to reaching his potential physically or mentally. I don’t think [fame] is going to hurt him.”

As daunting as that statement might sound for those who have to compete against him, other players noticed a quality in Woods’ game here that made them fear it’s all too true. Unlike last year’s British Open and U.S. Open, Woods didn’t lose his composure when it became apparent he wasn’t playing his best.

Heeding advice from Nicklaus, who told him a true professional is one who birdies the final hole even when he is out of contention, Woods played the 72nd hole as hard as the first.

“I got every ounce out of what I had this week,” he said. “I squeezed the towel dry.”

Nicklaus said last year that Woods can win 10 Masters. Nothing happened at Augusta National this year to make anyone believe that couldn’t still happen.