A legendary approach

By Alan Shipnuck

December 12, 2000

This year I had the pleasure of witnessing in person hundreds and hundreds of Tiger Woods golf shots, but I happened to catch my two favorites on TV. Perhaps you remember February's Pebble Beach National Pro-Am. I know I'll never forget it.

Woods came into that event riding a five-tournament winning streak, but from the beginning it didn't seem as if it was going to be his week. High winds and heavy rains muddied the already complicated logistics, forcing the first round to be completed Friday afternoon, and it was then, on the 16th hole at Poppy Hills, that Woods broke his trusty driver, which had been the Wonder Boy to his Roy Hobbs since late 1998. After Tiger shot a 73 in Saturday's second round, falling to the middle of the pack, seven back of the midway lead, I began focusing my energies on writing a piece about the end of his winning streak, an outcome that looked virtually certain. My lack of faith was born of necessity. Deadline demands made it impossible for me to wait until the end of the tournament -- scheduled for 5:30 p.m. Eastern time on Monday, thanks to TV -- to begin pounding out a piece. Though Woods rallied a bit on Sunday, shooting a 68 at Pebble Beach, he was still five strokes off the lead, in a five-way tie for eighth place. Dutifully I banged out his obituary.

Tiger began the final round at 8:40 Monday morning. When he failed to eagle either of the short par-5s on the front nine I was so certain my story on the streak's demise would hold up that I sneaked out of the press room and drove into Carmel to get my hair cut. I got back to the press room just as Tiger reached the tee of No. 12. He was seven strokes behind leader Matt Gogel. I settled into the media dining room, alongside much of the golf-magazine literati. We were all in the same boat, rooting against Tiger so we wouldn't have to tear asunder our prefiled stories. Woods birdied the 12th hole. Yawn, and pass the chocolate mousse. When Tiger failed to birdie the par-5 14th hole the streak was officially over. I know, because right then and there all us experts declared it to be.

Well, we all know what happened next. After a perfect drive at the short, downhill par-4 15th, Woods faced an approach shot of 97 yards. He proceeded to throw a wedge past the pin and then suck it back into the cup for a shocking eagle, one of the most memorable shots in a short career already chock full of them. It was so quiet in the media dining area you could've heard a fork drop. The big bird propelled Woods to within two of a faltering Gogel, and right then the awful truth set in: Tiger was going to win and I was going to have to rewrite my story. I was back in front of my computer, conferring with my editor in New York, when Woods stepped to his ball in the middle of the 16th fairway, another downhill par-4.

From 114 yards he landed another wedge within a foot of the cup, spinning it back an inch to the left of the hole (perhaps he misread the break). I literally dropped the phone on the desk. It was un-freaking-believable. In my book the most amazing thing about Woods is that despite the sky-high expectations placed on him, he never fails to exceed them. Considering the final-round pressure, the fame of the venue, and that a potentially historic winning streak was at stake, you can make a case that these were the two best approach shots in the game's history. Without a doubt, they were the most inconvenient. The story has long since been rewritten, but the memory, and the ulcer, still linger.

December 12, 2000