On the eve of Tiger’s umpteenth comeback, excitement lurks at every corner of social media.
Twitter is abuzz.
It feels as though Skratch TV is releasing Tiger pump-up videos on the hour.
It’s essentially December 2016 all over again.
And yet, deeply rooted in all this delight, there is an air of nervousness. A collective breath-holding if you will.
You see, we as fans, want, nay crave, a triumphant return by Tiger. We fantasize about him gloriously returning to the winner’s circle. We yearn to see him stalking the leaderboard deep on a Sunday afternoon. And yes, even some of us internally believe a 15th is well within his grasp.
However, despite the unquestioning fandom, there lurks the dark, fearful possibility his latest comeback doesn’t even lift off the ground.
Should Tiger’s near-42-year-old frame fail him once more, it will be among a countless throng of “I-told-you-sos.” This is the worry clenching tight to the soft underbelly of hope. Why, or how, will this time be different?
We have no way of knowing. Tiger has said all the right things. He has praised the successes of his latest surgery, claiming his body feels symptom-free. Although his swing appears much more tempered when compared to the free-wheeling days of old, there are witness accounts claiming distance off the tee has not been affected.
He has been said to be outdriving Dustin Johnson every other hole, and routinely outdriving Patrick Reed – both players he’s teed it up within the week before the Hero World Challenge.
In fact, Golfweek is reporting Tiger drove the 7th green down in Albany during the pro-am on Wednesday, which measures a measly 340 yards – and to top it off, drained his eagle putt for good measure.
Drop the hammer and throw this baby into fifth. He sure knows how to fuel the hype.
I wish Twitter had a facial expression for when this little piece of news broke. Something tells me it would look similar to when Stanley Ipkiss first lays eyes on Tina Carlyle at the Coco Bongo Club.
Alas, by the time this post is up, the Hero World Challenge is likely well under way, and maybe even complete. I cannot give any inclination this attempt will end any differently than the previous. Yet I sit here swatting away the nay-sayers like nagging flies trying to kill my buzz. I hold on to hope with the strength of a one-armed rock climber.
I mean, crazier things have happened. Right?
