NOV 17 — As weekends go, this one confirmed a simple sporting truth. It taught us that it’s time to stop deliberating and stalling like some over-anxious golfer and just make our play.
So let’s do it. Let’s send him a Singapore Airlines jet stocked with Gatorade, let’s appeal to his Asian heritage, let’s give his mother unlimited shopping vouchers. But let’s just get Tiger Woods here for the Singapore Open next year.
“Is he worth the trouble?” is a bit like asking whether Michelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel was passable. Still, proof is always useful and it was provided in Australia last week.
The Aussies are laid-back, they don’t do adoration, it’s not their thing. Then Woods showed up for the Australian Masters, his first visit to that continent in 11 years, and a city that’s old pals with world-class sport went all gooey.
People lined up at 6am for practice-day tickets. News helicopters hovered over fairways. His first round score was announced in state parliament. Some greens were guarded by crowds 20-people deep. Greg Baum, the Melbourne Age’s wise sports writer, said to me yesterday morning: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a reaction like that to a visiting athlete.”
The Tiger Effect is not new, still strong and once led fans to give him a standing ovation when he exited a portable on-course toilet. It is also time that Singapore felt this effect.
We’re not diminishing his peers, for Phil Mickleson is a fine fellow, and Padraig Harrington an interviewing delight, and Adam Scott makes the ladies blush. But they’re not Tiger. Not even together (he has more majors alone than this year’s entire field in Singapore, 14 to 11).
Our Open is a powerful tournament, its field is varied, its organisation slick, its course interesting. But if Woods came, a great event would evolve into grand theatre. His absence does not devalue the event, but leaves it incomplete. It is akin to a football cup in the 1980s with Maradona twiddling his magical toes at home.
We want to see Woods because he is unique, a freak, the sporting standard. When Manny Pacquiao required to be put into perspective, his promoter Bob Arum called him “the Tiger Woods of boxing”.
We are familiar with his greatness, but from a distance, and on TV, a champion takes on a certain mythical quality. When he arrives before us, it is different, it is confirmation that he is real.
A boy told a TV presenter in Melbourne that Woods was like “an action figure come to life”. Baum, the writer, who has travelled the globe, says he was surprised by his own reaction, that even he, an understated man, will fondly remember that “I saw Tiger play”.
This itself is worth bringing Woods here for, this chance to commune with the exceptional. But to see him “live” will also be an education for the aspiring.
Talent close-up penetrates the mind more fiercely, to see Woods’ devotion to routine from 20 feet, his desire radiate from across a lawn, is a significant lesson. Boys will see he is but a man who has sweated his way to almost godly deeds.
Golf fans here will genuflect at his presence, but even those not given to practising golf swings in lifts will arrive to watch. It is a natural inquisitiveness that humans have for the extraordinary.
And if Woods can convert some non-golf fans to watch the sport thereafter on TV, if he can convince some to go buy a first set of clubs, then his impact goes beyond being just an experience. He begins to influence golf in Singapore.
If this nation is to be a hub of international sporting activity, if it wants to advertise itself to the world, then it helps to have this sporting Picasso paint on our shores.
As that brilliant ally of all journalists, Google, informs us, if you type in Melbourne + “Tiger Woods” you get over 700,000 entries. This is unsurprising: a tournament usually covered by 50 writing press, had over 200 accredited media.
Australia’s Masters, with due respect, had a limited field, yet 380 million watched it on TV because of Woods. No man in sport has such power over our remotes. About 100,000 fans attended the event and the economic benefit of his presence was estimated by the Victoria Events Industry Council at A$19 million (RM60 million).
If Woods arrives in Singapore, he will similarly attract tourists, stimulate the hospitality industry and bring a guarantee, not of victory
(even he can’t do that), but of effort. His doctrine is: believe you can win, everything, everywhere. He is, mostly, good business.
He does not come cheap, he is after all a billion-dollar man. Some here will have philosophical objections to the idea of paying money to an athlete to perform. Others will contend that the appearance fee — roughly US$3 million (RM10 million) — is better spent on local sport. These are not unfair arguments. Yet Woods will not care, he does not need Singapore, for China, Australia, the world, is clamouring for him.
In Melbourne, the state government provided half his fee and the government here should follow suit. The tournament promoter and sponsors can find the rest.
Of course, Woods may not be agreeable to come even if the money is found. It is a matter of schedules, of his management group and the Singapore Open’s World Sport Group arriving at an agreement, of convincing him that it will be more fun here than Melbourne again.
It is why we should immediately start polishing our arguments about why golf’s Red-Shirted hero belongs in our Red Dot. Time, after all, is short, for the window even on his greatness is closing gently. Even Tiger Woods will not be exceptional forever. — The Straits Times
Show/Hide comments
Show/Hide comment form
