Opinion & Analysis
Is time off a good decision for Tiger?

By Pete Pappas
GolfWRX Staff Writer
The topsy-turvy season for Tiger Woods will resume with the first PGA Tour event of May, the Wells Fargo Championship at Quail Hollow in Charlotte, N.C., and will continue the following week with an appearance at The Players Championship at TPC Sawgrass in Ponte Verda Beach, Fla.
Woods announced his intentions last Wednesday to return to play in these consecutive events saying, “I have some work to do, but I’m going to take some time off and not look at the clubs for a while and then get back after it.”
But is taking three weeks off a good decision for Tiger? And is using “The Green Mile” at Quail Hollow as the course to return a smart decision given the degree of difficulty (ranked as the toughest three-hole finish on Tour two of the past three years).
The answers depend entirely on how he uses these weeks off. And considering how volatile Tiger apeared at The Masters over the weekend, “not taking a look at the clubs for awhile” is the absolute best thing he can do.
Tiger’s season has been an unmistakable rollercoaster through 16 weeks of Tour play in 2012. He’s been up (he won for the first time in 30 months at Bay Hill), down (he withdraw from the final round at Doral due to injury), and even upside-down (finishes with his worst 72-hole score at The Masters and worst overall finish in any major).
Throughout his career, Woods’ performances have bewildered. And they still do. Unfortunately for Tiger (at least in his own mind) they do now for all the wrong reasons.
Bobby Jones once said, “Competitive golf is played mainly on a five-and-a-half-inch course – the space between your ears.” And it’s on this course Tiger is struggling the most.
Speaking about his performance at The Masters, Woods said, “I didn’t hit the ball very good this week, and what’s frustrating is I know what to do, and I just don’t do it.”
“I know what to do, and I just don’t do it”?
And denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.
Tiger still believes he can do the same extraordinary things he did in 1999 (when he won eight times including one major), in 2005 (six wins and two majors), and in 2009 (when he won another six events).
The contentious truth is Woods is no longer capable of achieving these legendary feats — at least not with the same regularity.
Tiger used to drive it farther than everyone else, reach more greens than everyone else, and sink more putts than everyone else. And it was this deadly combination that made him PGA Tour Player of the Year a record 10 times in 13 seasons.
But Tiger doesn’t make putts like he used to (1st in birdie conversion in 2005, 13th in 2012; 1st in birdie average in 2005, 18th in 2012; 10th in total putting in 2005, 25th in 2012).
He doesn’t hit greens like he used to (6th in greens-in-regulation in 2005, 31st in 2012).
And he doesn’t bomb it off the tee like he used to (22 yards shorter in 2012 than in 2005).
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the King’s horses and all the King’s men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.
He doesn’t win like he used to, because he can’t win like he used to.
Still Woods continues to hold himself to that impossibly high standard. And every consequent failure becomes more frustrating, more confusing, and causes more (unnecessary) complication.
So Tiger makes excuses. “Unfortunately, I had a bad ball-striking week at the wrong time,” he said. “ Warmed up bad too, and it continued on the golf course.”
And he justifies failures. “Same old motor problems,” Woods said (again) after The Masters. “Now I’m struggling with it all the way around with all the clubs.”
The ironic thing is Tiger is actually having a pretty good year so far in spite of himself. The season is barely one third over, and he already has the one win at Bay Hill, two top-10 finishes, 4 top-25 finishes, and no missed cuts.
One win is a decent season on the PGA Tour these days. Two wins and steady play can earn you Player of the Year (Luke Donald 2011). Three wins would be a virtual coup, guaranteeing POTY honors.
But when the game’s (once upon a time) most dominating athlete is still accustomed to winning five times, six times, nine times in a single season, accepting these “ordinary” results becomes a monstrous struggle.
And Tiger’s struggle took center stage at Augusta National last Saturday (on Redbud, hole No. 16) highlighted by a club-kicking tantrum after his tee shot landed in a bunker (Woods proceeded to boot his 9-iron some 15 yards towards spectators gathered around the tee).
“[His] antics this week were an embarrassment to the game, to the membership at Augusta,” said former Ryder Cup captain Paul Azinger. “I was really disappointed to see [Tiger] carry on that way.”
Woods’ demonstrated a contempt for decorum of which there is no excuse. But his antics also revealed an insolent, distraught, and vulnerable Tiger struggling mightily to deal with the adversity that comes from not being able to play like his old self.
Tiger continues to insist it’s a process. “It’s just a matter of getting out there and doing it,” he said leaving Augusta. “Just putting in the reps and the time.”
But if Woods continues to do the same things expecting different results (by definition a form of insanity), then he’ll find himself in the “you know what” up to “you know where.”
The process Tiger needs to concentrate on isn’t a matter of swing mechanics.
It’s a matter of identity.
Tiger’s dad raised him to be a robot. And (while there are both admirable positives and unfortunate negatives to that) it worked for Tiger. It worked really well.
The Tiger-machine never broke down, slaughtering the competition, annihilating the Tour. Woods was on automatic; an assassin with a million dollar (endorsement) smile.
His greatness was never questioned. Ever.
When it did finally break down however, there are some who knew at that very moment, the Tiger-era was over, and repercussions for him as a man, not just a golfer, would be grave.
Today Woods is still facing the turbulent consequences of scandal (he remains one of the most disliked athletes in America) and often injured middle-aged body. He’s trying to become someone he’s never had to be before, and really doesn’t know how to become; just Tiger.
It’s human nature to believe we’re better than we actually are; that we can do more than we’re actually capable of doing. And for PGA Tour players that psyche is even more profound.
Their convictions are challenged and mettle tested nearly every week in a fiercely competitive (though outwardly cordial) environment. The slightest drop in confidence can have catastrophic results.
Lose their competitive edge and they’re at an overwhelming disadvantage before they even step foot on the course. But there’s a fine line between the physiology of confidence and physiology of self-destruction.
Winning used to come easy and often for Tiger. Put in the work. Show up. Win championships. But that’s no longer the case. The landscape has changed. Anyone on Tour can win any given week.
There will be weeks when you lose, Tiger, and there’s no explanation or analysis needed. Sometimes there are no solutions. Sometimes there aren’t things to fix.
Sometimes it suffices to say, “I lost, someone else was better.”
Novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky, celebrated as one of the greatest authors in the history of world literature, often explored human psychology in the context of troubled times.
Take heed Tiger.
“The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.”
Click here for more discussion in the “Tour Talk” forum.
You can follow Pete on Twitter @TheGreekGrind
Opinion & Analysis
The 2 primary challenges golf equipment companies face

As the editor-in-chief of this website and an observer of the GolfWRX forums and other online golf equipment discourse for over a decade, I’m pretty well attuned to the grunts and grumbles of a significant portion of the golf equipment purchasing spectrum. And before you accuse me of lording above all in some digital ivory tower, I’d like to offer that I worked at golf courses (public and private) for years prior to picking up my pen, so I’m well-versed in the non-degenerate golf equipment consumers out there. I touched (green)grass (retail)!
Complaints about the ills of and related to the OEMs usually follow some version of: Product cycles are too short for real innovation, tour equipment isn’t the same as retail (which is largely not true, by the way), too much is invested in marketing and not enough in R&D, top staffer X hasn’t even put the new driver in play, so it’s obviously not superior to the previous generation, prices are too high, and on and on.
Without digging into the merits of any of these claims, which I believe are mostly red herrings, I’d like to bring into view of our rangefinder what I believe to be the two primary difficulties golf equipment companies face.
One: As Terry Koehler, back when he was the CEO of Ben Hogan, told me at the time of the Ft Worth irons launch, if you can’t regularly hit the golf ball in a coin-sized area in the middle of the face, there’s not a ton that iron technology can do for you. Now, this is less true now with respect to irons than when he said it, and is less and less true by degrees as the clubs get larger (utilities, fairways, hybrids, drivers), but there remains a great deal of golf equipment truth in that statement. Think about it — which is to say, in TL;DR fashion, get lessons from a qualified instructor who will teach you about the fundamentals of repeatable impact and how the golf swing works, not just offer band-aid fixes. If you can’t repeatably deliver the golf club to the golf ball in something resembling the manner it was designed for, how can you expect to be getting the most out of the club — put another way, the maximum value from your investment?
Similarly, game improvement equipment can only improve your game if you game it. In other words, get fit for the clubs you ought to be playing rather than filling the bag with the ones you wish you could hit or used to be able to hit. Of course, don’t do this if you don’t care about performance and just want to hit a forged blade while playing off an 18 handicap. That’s absolutely fine. There were plenty of members in clubs back in the day playing Hogan Apex or Mizuno MP-32 irons who had no business doing so from a ballstriking standpoint, but they enjoyed their look, feel, and complementary qualities to their Gatsby hats and cashmere sweaters. Do what brings you a measure of joy in this maddening game.
Now, the second issue. This is not a plea for non-conforming equipment; rather, it is a statement of fact. USGA/R&A limits on every facet of golf equipment are detrimental to golf equipment manufacturers. Sure, you know this, but do you think about it as it applies to almost every element of equipment? A 500cc driver would be inherently more forgiving than a 460cc, as one with a COR measurement in excess of 0.83. 50-inch shafts. Box grooves. And on and on.
Would fewer regulations be objectively bad for the game? Would this erode its soul? Fortunately, that’s beside the point of this exercise, which is merely to point out the facts. The fact, in this case, is that equipment restrictions and regulations are the slaughterbench of an abundance of innovation in the golf equipment space. Is this for the best? Well, now I’ve asked the question twice and might as well give a partial response, I guess my answer to that would be, “It depends on what type of golf you’re playing and who you’re playing it with.”
For my part, I don’t mind embarrassing myself with vintage blades and persimmons chasing after the quasi-spiritual elevation of a well-struck shot, but that’s just me. Plenty of folks don’t give a damn if their grooves are conforming. Plenty of folks think the folks in Liberty Corner ought to add a prison to the museum for such offences. And those are just a few of the considerations for the amateur game — which doesn’t get inside the gallery ropes of the pro game…
Different strokes in the game of golf, in my humble opinion.
Anyway, I believe equipment company engineers are genuinely trying to build better equipment year over year. The marketing departments are trying to find ways to make this equipment appeal to the broadest segment of the golf market possible. All of this against (1) the backdrop of — at least for now — firm product cycles. And golfers who, with their ~15 average handicap (men), for the most part, are not striping the golf ball like Tiger in his prime and seem to have less and less time year over year to practice and improve. (2) Regulations that massively restrict what they’re able to do…
That’s the landscape as I see it and the real headwinds for golf equipment companies. No doubt, there’s more I haven’t considered, but I think the previous is a better — and better faith — point of departure when formulating any serious commentary on the golf equipment world than some of the more cynical and conspiratorial takes I hear.
Agree? Disagree? Think I’m worthy of an Adam Hadwin-esque security guard tackle? Let me know in the comments.
@golfoncbs The infamous Adam Hadwin tackle ? #golf #fyp #canada #pgatour #adamhadwin ? Ghibli-style nostalgic waltz – MaSssuguMusic
Podcasts
Fore Love of Golf: Introducing a new club concept

Episode #16 brings us Cliff McKinney. Cliff is the founder of Old Charlie Golf Club, a new club, and concept, to be built in the Florida panhandle. The model is quite interesting and aims to make great, private golf more affordable. We hope you enjoy the show!
Opinion & Analysis
On Scottie Scheffler wondering ‘What’s the point of winning?’

Last week, I came across a reel from BBC Sport on Instagram featuring Scottie Scheffler speaking to the media ahead of The Open at Royal Portrush. In it, he shared that he often wonders what the point is of wanting to win tournaments so badly — especially when he knows, deep down, that it doesn’t lead to a truly fulfilling life.
View this post on Instagram
“Is it great to be able to win tournaments and to accomplish the things I have in the game of golf? Yeah, it brings tears to my eyes just to think about it because I’ve literally worked my entire life to be good at this sport,” Scheffler said. “To have that kind of sense of accomplishment, I think, is a pretty cool feeling. To get to live out your dreams is very special, but at the end of the day, I’m not out here to inspire the next generation of golfers. I’m not out here to inspire someone to be the best player in the world, because what’s the point?”
Ironically — or perhaps perfectly — he went on to win the claret jug.
That question — what’s the point of winning? — cuts straight to the heart of the human journey.
As someone who’s spent over two decades in the trenches of professional golf, and in deep study of the mental, emotional, and spiritual dimensions of the game, I see Scottie’s inner conflict as a sign of soul evolution in motion.
I came to golf late. I wasn’t a junior standout or college All-American. At 27, I left a steady corporate job to see if I could be on the PGA Tour starting as a 14-handicap, average-length hitter. Over the years, my journey has been defined less by trophies and more by the relentless effort to navigate the deeply inequitable and gated system of professional golf — an effort that ultimately turned inward and helped me evolve as both a golfer and a person.
One perspective that helped me make sense of this inner dissonance around competition and our culture’s tendency to overvalue winning is the idea of soul evolution.
The University of Virginia’s Division of Perceptual Studies has done extensive research on reincarnation, and Netflix’s Surviving Death (Episode 6) explores the topic, too. Whether you take it literally or metaphorically, the idea that we’re on a long arc of growth — from beginner to sage elder — offers a profound perspective.
If you accept the premise literally, then terms like “young soul” and “old soul” start to hold meaning. However, even if we set the word “soul” aside, it’s easy to see that different levels of life experience produce different worldviews.
Newer souls — or people in earlier stages of their development — may be curious and kind but still lack discernment or depth. There is a naivety, and they don’t yet question as deeply, tending to see things in black and white, partly because certainty feels safer than confronting the unknown.
As we gain more experience, we begin to experiment. We test limits. We chase extreme external goals — sometimes at the expense of health, relationships, or inner peace — still operating from hunger, ambition, and the fragility of the ego.
It’s a necessary stage, but often a turbulent and unfulfilling one.
David Duval fell off the map after reaching World No. 1. Bubba Watson had his own “Is this it?” moment with his caddie, Ted Scott, after winning the Masters.
In Aaron Rodgers: Enigma, reflecting on his 2011 Super Bowl win, Rodgers said:
“Now I’ve accomplished the only thing that I really, really wanted to do in my life. Now what? I was like, ‘Did I aim at the wrong thing? Did I spend too much time thinking about stuff that ultimately doesn’t give you true happiness?’”
Jim Carrey once said, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”
Eventually, though, something shifts.
We begin to see in shades of gray. Winning, dominating, accumulating—these pursuits lose their shine. The rewards feel more fleeting. Living in a constant state of fight-or-flight makes us feel alive, yes, but not happy and joyful.
Compassion begins to replace ambition. Love, presence, and gratitude become more fulfilling than status, profits, or trophies. We crave balance over burnout. Collaboration over competition. Meaning over metrics.
Interestingly, if we zoom out, we can apply this same model to nations and cultures. Countries, like people, have a collective “soul stage” made up of the individuals within them.
Take the United States, for example. I’d place it as a mid-level soul: highly competitive and deeply driven, but still learning emotional maturity. Still uncomfortable with nuance. Still believing that more is always better. Despite its global wins, the U.S. currently ranks just 23rd in happiness (as of 2025). You might liken it to a gifted teenager—bold, eager, and ambitious, but angsty and still figuring out how to live well and in balance. As much as a parent wants to protect their child, sometimes the child has to make their own mistakes to truly grow.
So when Scottie Scheffler wonders what the point of winning is, I don’t see someone losing strength.
I see someone evolving.
He’s beginning to look beyond the leaderboard. Beyond metrics of success that carry a lower vibration. And yet, in a poetic twist, Scheffler did go on to win The Open. But that only reinforces the point: even at the pinnacle, the question remains. And if more of us in the golf and sports world — and in U.S. culture at large — started asking similar questions, we might discover that the more meaningful trophy isn’t about accumulating or beating others at all costs.
It’s about awakening and evolving to something more than winning could ever promise.
Hart
May 1, 2012 at 7:48 pm
While I’m as much a literary fan as anyone, I think Tiger Woods’ current travails can be summed up thusly:
He has badly damaged his mind.
His body is damaged, and not the youthful incarnation of the 90s/early 2000s.
His Foley-esque swing re-tooling clearly isn’t going so well.
I’m with Butch: he needs to clear the decks of all the mechanical mumbo-jumbo and just go out and swing the golf club HIS way.
At this stage, if his raw talent won’t do it, nothing will.
KB
Apr 24, 2012 at 3:51 pm
Excellent quote. Very fitting in my opinion.
Rick Rappaport
Apr 24, 2012 at 3:12 pm
Bravo Pete! Love the Dostoevsky quote, so apropos for Tiger’s current situation. I guess you all keep writing about
him because many of us still love him and really want the man
to love himself.
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