Psychoanalysis of Tiger Woods continues at British Open

From St. Andrews, Scotland — 

Correctly done, newspapers would send a psychologist to write about the days just before a major golf tournament and a sportswriter to cover the days the golfers play.

That’s because of Tiger Woods.

If anything, the thirst for non-golf analysis of Woods is more acute here than anywhere before, even though this is his third attempt at winning a major title since he returned from what the British press has termed his “dalliances” and his “marital excursions.”

In his first tries back, he was in the hunt at both the Masters and the U.S. Open, but couldn’t close the deal. Before his “marital excursions,” it not only would have been assumed he would do so, but he also would have.

Now, we aren’t so sure. Now, one of the constants of our universe — that Tiger will intimidate everybody else and win in the end — is no longer a given. Far from it.

If anything, that makes him even more intriguing than when he was just scary good.

Sports fans in general, golf fans in particular, are as torn over this as a dad watching a Little League game with one son pitching to another. It used to be so easy, those Sunday afternoons of TV golf watching, unencumbered by any thoughts other than birdies and bogeys and which sponsor tent Phil Mickelson will try to hit his drive over.

Now, there are those fans who want Woods to win so that all the other stuff will go away, others who want him to fail miserably and still others who root for him, seek autographs and hiss at anybody in the gallery who yells anything the least bit derogatory, while they secretly harbor similar animosity.

It’s that complicated, and until the simple passage of time heals much of it, the psychoanalysis of Tiger Woods will continue. Those who blame the media, always an easy target, might be asked if they’d prefer a steady diet of stories on Graeme McDowell and Stewart Cink. The answer might be yes, but the truth would be that fame begets fascination, and there is limited fascination in one U.S. Open or one British Open title. Three or four more on either part and we have something.

But until then, Tiger drives the bus in this sport.

It is interesting how the hierarchy of golf has greeted Woods in these three post-martial-excursion major events. At the Masters, Billy Payne became the nun with the ruler, scolding him. At the U.S. Open, U.S. Golf Assn. officials were too busy making sure all the thumbscrews were in place around the course to bother much with anything else. But here, at Scotland’s Royal and Ancient, the chief executive of the R & A, Peter Dawson, greeted Woods’ presence warmly and said, interestingly, “The Championship needs the world’s No. 1 player, and vice versa.”

There was a time when the vice versa would have not even come to mind.

There is a tiptoeing around Tiger these days, and not just by the fans.

Ryder Cup Captain Corey Pavin, quoted months ago when Woods was on his sabbatical that Woods’ presence on the team was not a sure thing, said last week, “What I meant was that I want him to make the team. He’s the best player in the world. I want him to qualify.”

But Pavin did not hesitate to quickly add, “Nobody is a guaranteed pick.”

Woods has won the last two times the British Open was played here in its every-five-years rotation. His only previous British Open at St. Andrews was as a youngster of 19 in 1995, when he made the cut and finished 68th.

By the time you read this, he will have spoken at his mandatory pre-event news conference at 11 a.m. Tuesday. Most likely, the session will stick to golf, especially after what happened before the U.S. Open when a reporter attempted to take him into his current marital dilemma and was quickly cut off with, “It’s none of your business.” At Pebble Beach, the answers on all topics continued to be a robotic recitation of catchphrases: “That’s golf.” And, “It is what it is.”

This being Britain, where tabloid journalism rules, there will be attempts. And in some ways, Woods might welcome some of those questions and respond with reasonable answers that could begin to re-humanize his image.

Currently, that seems unlikely.

Sunday, he played a practice round on the Old Course — accompanied by an agent, caddie Stevie Williams and several security guards — and created the usual spectator gathering and buzz, even five days before the first round. But he kept the fans at arm’s length, and instead of wading through the awaiting horde at 18, he turned and walked back the entire length of No. 18 to exit near the tee.

That never used to matter. That was just Tiger being focused. Now, that’s seen as Tiger being a jerk.

Fair or not, these continue to be, psychologically speaking, the worst of times for Eldrick T. Woods and the sport he dominated for so long.

bill.dwyre@latimes.com