Finishing Kick

Did we say obviously? Egged on by his caddie, Steve Williams, Woods aimed left of the flag and hit a high fade with his six-iron. ("Grant forced my hand," Woods said. "He had hit the ball on the green, which meant he was guaranteed birdie, if not a possible eagle. I had to go for it.") Tiger's ball sailed over the flagstick to the back of the green, hopping onto a pillow of collar grass 18 feet behind the hole. "There is no room there," a dazed Waite said later. "With the tournament on the line, to have the poise and the confidence to hit that shot explains what Tiger is all about."

Waite still had a chance to force a playoff, but his eagle putt slid past the hole, his dreams with it. Woods closed him out with a chip and a one-foot putt for birdie, signing off with the kind of abbreviated arm pump he reserves for his routine victories. Let's face it, when you've won 16 tournaments in 27 starts over 19 months—a winning percentage of 59%—most of them are routine. The raucous Canadians at Glen Abbey could only arch their eyebrows, half-smile, shake their heads in wonder and echo the words of Waite, who said of Woods, "Right now he's an athlete in full flight, and it's beautiful to watch."