Woods’ greatness redefines ‘ridiculous’

SAN DIEGO

OK, so it has reached the point of ridiculous. It is Michael Jordan against the Trail Blazers in the 1992 NBA Finals, making six first-half 3-pointers and shrugging at his own mastery. It is Jordan playing with an awful flu against the Jazz in the ’97 Finals and scoring 38 points.

It is a once-in-a-lifetime athlete reminding us to pay attention and enjoy every incredible golf shot, that they won’t be around forever. That he won’t be.

It is an entirely different world where the superstar becomes almost apologetic for being so good. Tiger Woods reached that sphere Saturday.

The ridiculous kind.

The U.S. Open is no longer about Woods against the field. It is about Woods against his left knee.

Do you know what separates greatness from everyone else? It’s not just picking up four shots over the final six holes while constantly wincing from pain, which Woods did Saturday at Torrey Pines to enter today’s final round with a one-shot lead.

It’s not adding to an already historic resume one unbelievable putt and chip after another. It’s not the billion-dollar bank account, although that always helps. It’s the simplicity of two emotions:

It is hitting a terrible drive on a par-5 13th and still making a 60-foot eagle putt to put yourself back in red numbers for the tournament, and responding as any golfing mortal — with several fist pumps and hollers as the gallery roars; it is then following another poor tee shot on a par-4 17th by hitting 7-iron left of the bunker, admittedly striking your pitch from 30 feet too hard, watching it take one bounce and drop into the cup, and sheepishly smiling.

Like you are embarrassed by it, like the Ugly Duckling might when named Prom Queen, like you are downright contrite about being that much better than all others.

“I can’t tell you what (emotion) is coming,” said Woods, whose 3-under total is one shot better than Lee Westwood of England and two ahead of Rocco Mediate. “It’s just one of those things. Whatever happens, happens. Either way, it just keeps going in.”

It also did on 18, another par 5 that Woods eagled from 30 feet for the lead. His response there was as if he expected it to drop, knew it would, a few shakes of the fist to punctuate a back nine that playing partner Robert Karlsson termed “freakish,” and to plant that seed of enormous doubt in those closest to him on the leaderboard, much like Jordan did to those who opposed him on a court.

Westwood also shot a 1-under 70, but can you recite one memorable thing about his round? It’s not his fault. It’s not the fault of anyone. People insist if Woods is the best player in history, he is also the luckiest in terms of bounces and favorable lies. Maybe. The chip on 17 was lucky. Woods admitted it.

But remember: He hadn’t played a competitive round coming in since undergoing knee surgery following the Masters in April and was paired in the first two rounds with hometown favorite Phil Mickelson, who knows the South Course better than those who designed it.

Mickelson enters the final round 9 over. On the 13th on Saturday, he took a quadruple-bogey nine. It took him four shots from 30 yards to reach the green, a series of failed wedges that kept rolling back to him down a steep slope.

There has never been a more talented, successful pro who in a blink can remind you so much of Roy McAvoy, never one whose line between brilliance and buffoonery is so often realized. Mickelson is “Tin Cup” wearing a Callaway shirt and Rolex, so far behind Woods at No. 2, it’s astonishing.

Maybe the only chance Mickelson or anyone has of reaching No. 1 over the next decade is if a knee now operated on three times continues to fail the 32-year-old Woods. Maybe he will play until he is 50 and beyond, but maybe he won’t. It’s why we should remember to enjoy the moments now. After all, didn’t it once seem as though Jordan would make those impossible jumpers forever?

“I’m just trying to get by,” Woods said. “Is it getting worse? Yes. Certain shots, I’ll feel it. I can’t say it’s a drive, can’t say it’s a wedge. I’m not sure what shot it’s going to happen on.”

Woods is 13-for-13 when entering the final round of a major sharing the lead or owning it outright. If he makes it 14 today, he will do so limping.

It’s Tiger Woods against his left knee for another title. The field is again secondary.

Said one spectator to a San Diego-based reporter late Saturday: “I never saw Babe Ruth. But I have seen Tiger Woods.”

Once-in-a-lifetime. An entirely different world.

The ridiculous kind.

Ed Graney’s column is published Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. He can be reached at 383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.