PALM BEACH GARDENS, FLA.: Tiger Woods might long for the day when all anyone questioned was his swing.
Because until now, no one ever doubted his putting.
But as Woods begins his road to the Masters Tournament this week at the Honda Classic, scrutiny has shifted from his new swing to what used to be the most reliable part of his game.
Poised to make a run at Pebble Beach, Woods badly missed a 5-foot birdie putt on the second hole and missed from 3 feet for par on the seventh hole just as Phil Mickelson was pulling away. Woods three-putted the last hole for a 75.
“I could not get comfortable where I could see my lines,” he said. “I couldn’t get the putter to swing.”
Last week at the Match Play Championship, despite missing two birdie putts inside 10 feet on the back nine as he tried to rally, Woods had a birdie putt from just outside 5 feet on the 18th hole to extend his second-round match against Nick Watney.
The putt never even touched the hole.
“I should be able to fix it in a day,” Woods said.
Players help each other all the time, so it should not be unusual that twice in the last three months, Woods has sought advice from Steve Stricker. The tip at the Presidents Cup was to release the blade. They played nine holes of a practice round Tuesday at Dove Mountain, and Stricker noticed the club was too shut going back, which Woods attributed to his missed putt against Watney.
But ask yourself this: When does Woods take advice from anybody — even Stricker — when it comes to his putting?
This is the guy on everyone’s list of the game’s best putters. No one from his generation made more clutch putts.
There was that 6-foot birdie putt to force a playoff at the PGA Championship in 2000 during his sweep of the majors. The 15-foot putt in the dark at the Presidents Cup in South Africa. And perhaps the biggest one of all, the 12-foot birdie putt on the 18th hole at Torrey Pines that got Woods and his shattered leg into a playoff at the U.S. Open.
To watch a replay in slow motion of the ball bouncing toward the cup and diving into the right corner, it had no business going in except that it was Woods. The shortest club in his bag wasn’t a putter, it was a magic wand.
Maybe it’s as simple as karma.
For those suggesting he go back to the Scotty Cameron putter that brought him 13 majors, that’s not the solution. He was missing just as many putts with his old putter since coming back from the crisis in his personal life.
It would be foolish to jump to conclusions about Woods. He is capable of far more than anyone else, proof of that coming from his 71 wins on the PGA Tour. Winning at Honda or Doral might be enough to empty his head of doubts. A win at the Masters, which is more about creativity than technique, changes everything.
Woods can do just about anything with his swing — this is the fourth change he has made in 15 years.
He can’t get by as easily without good putting.
Woods spent most of 1998 overhauling his swing under Butch Harmon. He still managed two wins, four runner-up finishes and he was out of the top 10 only eight times in 24 tournaments around the world.
He revamped his swing again in 2004 under Hank Haney and still contended. Woods won twice that year, was runner-up three times and finished out of the top 10 only five times in 21 tournaments.
The difference? He was still making putts.
He’s no longer making as many.
“Stevie [Williams] used to keep all his stats,” Haney said. “If he didn’t three-putt, he would win 85 percent of the time. If he made his normal amount of putts, he would usually win. And if he made a bunch of them, he would win by six or eight. Now it looks to me like he has to make a bunch to win by a couple, which is what everybody else does.”
That has been the biggest difference about Woods the past two years — he looks like everybody else. And all that can be certain is that his putting is getting a lot of attention. Not because of the putts he makes, but the putts he misses.