There they stood—the latest generation of PGA superstars—as they watched their boyhood hero march from the 18th green at Augusta to sign his winning scorecard. Watching Tiger Woods lay claim to major victories on a Sunday afternoon was a role they had grown quite accustomed to growing up.
Just minutes earlier, they had found themselves in a much less familiar role—a far more uncomfortable one—as they fell victim to Tiger on a Sunday at the Masters.
For years, the likes of Rickie Fowler, Brooks Koepka, and Xander Chauffele had remarked about their yearning to battle Tiger when he was at his best. The long-awaited message had finally been sent: be careful what you wish for.
The historic victory marked Tiger's 15th major championship win, as well as his 5th Green Jacket. But this win wasn't about conquering a golf course, or a field of professionals half his age. This win was about redemption, pure and simple.
In his prime, Tiger was best known for pummeling the field with his power and prowess. Scorching course records and lapping his competitors. He went about it much differently this time around, mixing patience and grit with a whole lot of Masters-Know-How.
Tiger’s win this year at the Masters somehow feels more impressive than his first 14 majors combined, because if that was a triumph of talent, then this was a triumph of spirit.
A triumph of the soul, ya know?
His first win at the Masters in 1997 was punctuated with an emotional embrace of his father. His win this year was punctuated by an emotional embrace with his son Charlie. A lifetime—literally—between the two historic feats.
Say what you want about Tiger Woods, but he has earned his return to this stage. Whatever his mistakes, he’s paid an outsiders price.
He lost his family and his career, and a big chunk of his fortune.
Then he lost his ability to stage a comeback.
Then he lost his father, and his endorsements.
Then he lost his swing.
And then he lost his health.
His mugshot has been broadcast around the world, and he’s been broken down in the most public of ways. Stripped of his dignity. Stripped of his privacy. Stripped of all the things that made Tiger Woods. That defined Tiger Woods.
A lesser man might have walked away into the forced seclusion of regret.
Somehow, someway, he found it in him to claw his way back to the top.
He found a way to keep playing golf so his kids can see the Tiger Woods we all remember. The warrior. The stone-cold killer. The Champion.
The second act is a choice he made. Not for his father, or his legacy, but for himself.
Maybe he beats Nicklaus after all. Maybe he feels content with his latest Green Jacket and the fact that he was able to write his own ending.
Judging by the look in his eyes on the back nine of Augusta this year, the roar he let out on the 18th green won't be his last.
