Chapter 24

Buick Challenge

Callaway Gardens Resort

Pine Mountain, Georgia

September 24, 1996

Tiger’s chartered plane next heads to Orlando, Florida. It’s a quick stop, long enough for him to trade in his California driver’s license for a Florida one but not long enough to test-drive a Lexus SC 400 coupe—the new car he’s eyeing because it has a trunk “big enough to hold my golf clubs.”

Tiger will need those clubs to compete in the Buick Challenge, at Callaway Gardens Resort, in Pine Mountain, Georgia, the last week of September.

He arrives on Tuesday, September 24, and plays nine practice holes with Peter Jacobsen, the pro Fluff Cowan was previously on the bag for, and thirty-two-year-old Davis Love III, a three-time NCAA all-American for the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a ten-year tour veteran who also works with swing coach Butch Harmon. Tiger tells Love, “It would be cool to go head-to-head down the stretch someday.”

“Good luck, I hope you get the chance,” Love says.

He knows it’s just a matter of time. Tiger’s only been on the tour for a few weeks, but Love believes it when Harmon tells him, “Davis, when Tiger learns to control his distances, nobody is going to beat him.”

Tiger’s purpose in Georgia is twofold: in addition to playing in the Buick Challenge, he’s there to receive the Haskins Award, given to the year’s outstanding collegiate golfer in memory of Georgia Golf Hall of Fame (by way of Hoylake, England) junior golf instructor Fred Haskins.

Typically, the award is presented on the winner’s campus at the halftime of a home football game, but given Tiger’s media draw, the Haskins Commission is going all-out with a white-tablecloth dinner.

At least, that’s the plan.

But the fatigue that’s been building in Tiger for weeks, months, maybe even years, finally catches up with him.

He makes a last-minute decision to pull out of both events.

Attendees at Wednesday’s pro-am, including Orlando Sentinel golf reporter Jeff Babineau, are en route to Callaway Gardens when the van driver gets a call on her walkie-talkie. “That was my husband,” she tells Babineau. “He’s taking Tiger… to the airport.”

Hughes Norton of IMG releases a statement on Tiger’s behalf. “There was no other choice,” Norton says of Tiger’s withdrawal. “He was wiped out. He’s out of gas… I’m amazed that it took this long. I thought he might hit the wall before now.”

“He looked beat,” Cowan, who caddied Tiger’s practice match on Tuesday, says in agreement. “He was just kind of putting one foot ahead of the other, but I didn’t think it wasn’t anything a good night’s sleep couldn’t cure.”

Despite Tiger’s evident exhaustion, the move is terrible PR. Ticket presales were double those for previous Buick Challenge tournaments, and with its honoree gone, the Haskins dinner is canceled. “More than 200 dignitaries had traveled to Callaway Gardens at the tournament’s expense,” notes sports reporter Tim Rosaforte. “A video was produced. Including flowers, decorations and the special meals, it cost Buick $30,000 to put the event on.” It’s also a costly move for Tiger, one that zeroes out his winnings for the week and drops him to number 131 on the tour money list.

Reaction by fellow tour players is swift. Davis Love III attributes the misstep to naivete. “He’s a rookie and rookies make rookie mistakes.”

Stewart Cink, winner of the 1995 Haskins Award and new to the tour himself, is less forgiving. “To some degree I think it offends all the players who have won that award,” Cink says.

Curtis Strange says, “This tournament was one of seven to help Tiger when he needed help to get his card, and how quickly he forgot. But I bet the Buick people won’t forget.”

Paul “Zinger” Azinger, who tied with Tiger a few weeks ago at the Milwaukee Open, says, “Everybody really likes Tiger out here. He’s an incredibly likeable kid” and puts the blame on Norton for not being “a better counselor and advisor to Tiger Woods. He’s only 20, man.”

Even Arnold Palmer weighs in. “Tiger should have played,” he tells the Los Angeles Times. “He should have gone to the dinner. The lesson is you don’t make commitments you can’t fulfill, unless you’re on your deathbed, and I don’t believe he was on his deathbed.” But “the important thing,” Palmer continues, “is how he handles it from here. I like Tiger very much. I am saying publicly exactly what I would say to him personally.”

Larry Guest of the Orlando Sentinel addresses Tiger directly in a column dissecting the twenty-year-old player’s decision process:

The next time a sticky situation arises—and there will be more of them, for sure—address it head-on. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER again leave your IMG rep Hughes Norton and a cold, impersonal prepared statement to plead your case, as happened this week… Your own pleasing smile and natural charm will be far more effective in defusing volatile situations and disarming critics.

Face the music. Be accessible. Openly apologize if the case warrants. This is definitely one of those cases.

“Cop a plea that you’re young and learning,” Guest advises. “The world will give you the benefit of the doubt and drape an arm around your shoulder.”

Tiger is stung by the criticism.

“I thought those people were my friends,” he says, surprised by the media reports of comments from fellow players. “Those guys actually had been very nice to me,” he notes, saying they’ve “told me that that’s not exactly what they said, so it’s just one of those things.”

Back in Orlando, Tiger goes fishing with his new Isleworth neighbor Mark O’Meara.

“The media’s been hard on me,” Tiger complains.

The veteran player is sympathetic but realistic. “The media made you what you are,” O’Meara tells him.

“I miss college,” Tiger admits to Sports Illustrated. “I miss sitting around drinking beer and talking half the night… My mother was right when she said that turning pro would take away my youth. But golfwise, there was nothing left for me in college.”

He still has some fences to mend with college golf, though.

Tiger writes to every member of the Haskins Commission as well as to everyone who’d planned to attend the canceled event. In each of the two hundred letters, he sincerely apologizes for his actions.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Tiger says to Boston Globe reporter Joe Concannon. “I should’ve withdrawn from the tournament, but gone to the banquet.”

He makes a promise to the would-be attendees: if the award banquet is rescheduled, he’ll happily, and definitely, attend.