Masters Plan

Before returning to Augusta for the most anticipated encore in the history of golf, Tiger Woods spent an entire week doing the one thing he must do if he hopes to fulfill the destiny foretold after last year's astonishing pro debut: He just said no. He said no to interviews. No to lawyers seeking his signature on endorsement deals. No to friends eager to crank up the PlayStation or hit a few nightclubs. Instead, Woods spent seven days at home, alone with his game.

Taking welcome refuge in his lakeside villa in Isleworth, the ultraexclusive community outside Orlando, Woods cut off all distractions, even his cell phone, so he could fine-tune his game and his mind. Woods is clearly still wrestling with the ramifications of being an athlete who has radically altered the notion of what's possible in his sport. He knows that given his talent, charisma and ambition, what he did at Augusta last year—shooting a record 18-under-par 270 to win by 12 strokes—was only a prelude. Like Jack Nicklaus in his prime, he isn't playing for the money title but for history. Repeating his Masters mastery is a daunting challenge, but it is the only one that interests him right now.

It's no accident that Woods has focused on the Masters, for this is where Nicklaus made his reputation. As a boy Woods kept a chronology of Nicklaus's major championships tacked up next to his bed. Technically, he's ahead of the Golden Bear. At 22 Nicklaus had three majors (two U.S. Amateurs and a U.S. Open), while Woods at 22 has four (three Amateurs and a Masters). But from age 23 to 27, Nicklaus won six more majors—three Masters, a U.S. Open, a British Open and a PGA Championship. Woods wants to stay ahead of that pace.

He is certainly capable of once again taking Augusta's legendary course by its nape and shaking it like a rag doll. "I wouldn't be one bit surprised to see him do exactly what he did last year," says Nicklaus, who has already predicted that Woods will surpass his record of six green jackets. "If he plays just fair this year, he should probably still win."

If only it were that easy. Woods knows that many people question whether he can perform with the same focus and passion he displayed last year. In the past 12 months he has struggled with two powerful forces pulling him in opposite directions. One is fame, which has done miraculous things for his bank account but nothing for his game. The constant crush of fans, reporters and promoters has cut into his practice time and his downtime, and death threats have made him wary outside the gallery ropes. He has sought counsel from experienced advisers like Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley and Ken Griffey Jr. "He puts way too much pressure on himself," says Jordan. "I tell him to make himself happy. I think he understands that."

He may understand it, but he hasn't yet found a way to do it, and the mental strain has taken a physical toll. "I am so tired," said a bleary-eyed Woods in his darkened hotel room after he struggled to make the cut at the Players Championship two weeks ago. "And I'm especially tired of talking about the Masters."

The other force pulling at him is his talent, which is still being burnished by his unrelenting desire to be the most dominant golfer ever. Despite what you might have heard or read recently, Woods is a more complete player than he was going into last year's Masters. Without sacrificing any of his prodigious length, he has made himself a far more accurate driver. The wild child who regularly flew iron shots over greens is now consistently pin high with the lower-trajectory approaches that have been the reward of a more refined swing. His decision making is more mature. His bad shots are not nearly as bad and his putting remains streaky, but even his wedge play, still the weakest part of his game, is more reliable.

The most obvious change is in his physique. The 6'2", 170-pound Woods has added 20 pounds since a year ago and has built himself up into a muscular athlete with a broad back and rippling arms. As part of his training regimen, he bench-presses 225 pounds and squats more than 300. "Tiger has gotten incredibly strong for a golfer," says his teacher, Butch Harmon. "It has given him a very stable base, which makes it easier for him to repeat his swing."

Still, the record suggests that in the tug-of-war between fame and talent, fame is at least one up. The most obvious indication of this: Woods has stopped winning (chart, above). His performance in last year's other three majors was disappointing. He was only 1-3-1 in the Ryder Cup. And after piling up six victories on the PGA Tour in his first 10 months as a professional, Woods hasn't won in the U.S. since last July. He's played well on several occasions, but he has also shown a vulnerability that doesn't square with his reputation as golf's ultimate closer. He had a dramatic final-round 65 that led to a comeback victory in Thailand in January, but his Sunday charges this season at La Costa, San Diego and L.A. all fell short, and he isn't coming into Augusta with much momentum. At Bay Hill last month he opened with a 64 that gave him an uncharacteristic early lead, then went into a slow fade that left him tied for 13th. At the Players Championship he finished in a tie for 35th.

Even so, it would be foolhardy to declare that Woods has lost his winning edge. Golf often doles out victories to its best players in bunches, and Woods remains outwardly patient, evincing no self-doubt or panic. "Golf humbles you every day, every shot, really," he says. "I know how hard the game is." Despite the lessons in humility he has absorbed in the past nine months, Woods still believes he will be able to unleash his A game when he needs it most. Again and again this year, when asked about his drought, he would say, "As long as I'm ready by the second week of April."