Chapter 28

Callaway Gardens Resort

Columbus, Georgia

November 11, 1996

In a ballroom filled with tables covered in white cloths and set for a steak dinner, Earl and Tiger mingle with guests of the Haskins Commission for the rescheduled Haskins Award ceremony.

A man in a suit approaches Tiger.

“I think you’re going to be the next great one,” the man says, “but those are mighty big shoes to fill.”

“Got big feet,” Tiger replies.

He’s keeping the mood light. So is Cecil Calhoun, longtime Haskins Commission member and the evening’s master of ceremonies. As the moment approaches for Tiger to accept the Haskins Award for outstanding collegiate golfer of 1996, the mood in the room swirls with a mix of curiosity and anticipation that heightens as Earl steps from the head table to the podium. Earl—who as a young army officer was once stationed at Fort Benning, ten miles outside Columbus—knows the area well, and he knows tonight’s subject even better.

Tears coursing down his face, his voice breaking with emotion, Earl makes a speech that is at once an apology, a confessional, and a hopeful plea.

Please forgive me… but sometimes I get very emotional… when I talk about my son… My heart… fills with so… much… joy… when I realize… that this young man… is going to be able… to help so many people… He will transcend this game… and bring to the world… a humanitarianism… which has never been known before. The world will be a better place to live in… by virtue of his existence… and his presence… I acknowledge only a small part in that… in that I know that I was personally selected by God himself… to nurture this young man… and bring him to the point where he can make his contribution to humanity… This is my treasure… Please accept it… and use it wisely… Thank you.

Earl and Tiger embrace as the room erupts in applause and an outpouring of feeling over a father’s tribute. The presence of Fred Haskins—mentor to junior golfers, father of two daughters, and the reason all are gathered here tonight—is deeply sensed.

“That’s my father,” Tiger says, taking Earl’s place at the podium.

It’s been six weeks since Tiger left Callaway Gardens in a haze of exhaustion. He explains the moments leading up to that decision. He pauses, making eye contact with as many people in the room as he can. They’ve been waiting to hear what he has to say.

The room is hushed as Tiger speaks. “I should’ve attended the dinner [the first time],” he says. “I admit I was wrong, and I’m sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused. But I have learned from that, and I will never make that mistake again. I’m very honored to be part of this select group, and I’ll always remember, for both good and bad, this Haskins Award; for what I did and what I learned, for the company I’m now in and I’ll always be in. Thank you very much.”

Forgiveness reigns.

What hangs heavy over Tiger and Earl, though, is Earl’s recent health scare—and how it affected Tiger’s play two weeks ago at the TOUR Championship.

Joining the top thirty players on the 1996 money list after his win at the Disney Classic (with earnings of $734,494 and a spot at number 23), Tiger earned the opportunity to vie for a $3 million purse and a $540,000 first prize.

Earl and Tida traveled to Tulsa, Oklahoma, to watch their son compete against the elite field—including Phil Mickelson, who topped the money list with $1,620,999—at the Southern Hills Country Club.

Expectations are sky-high. The New York Times noted “a huge rush on tickets to the Tour Championship” during a week when “the kid is on the cover of Sports Illustrated, on the front page of The New York Times, on the cover of Golf Digest and Golf Magazine.”

On a bright and sunny Thursday, October 24, Tiger shoots an even-par 70, putting him in eighth place. “He was close to shooting a 66 or so,” said caddie Mike “Fluff” Cowan. “Pretty solid, but he could have putted a little better.” Looking at the weather, Cowan lamented, “It’s supposed to get ugly and nasty here the next three days. Low scores are going to be hard to come by.”

Cowan had no idea how right his forecast would be.

Earl had been experiencing the same flulike symptoms that had plagued his son the week before, when Tiger celebrated his “victory at Disney by heading home to Isleworth, taking some Nyquil and heading to bed,” according to the Orlando Sentinel.

At 2:50 in the morning of October 25, Tiger accompanied his sixty-four-year-old father to Saint Francis Hospital, where ESPN reported that he was treated for chest pains and then transferred to the coronary unit.

It’s widely known that Earl underwent quadruple bypass surgery ten years ago. His heavy smoking and drinking were surely a factor, but Earl’s also prone to joking that Tiger’s close calls on the golf course have contributed to his heart trouble. During the U.S. Amateur in August, Earl sipped from a tumbler of vodka, stating half seriously: “That boy never does anything easy. He has exercised my heart for the past six years.”

Unaware that Tiger had been with his father at the hospital until five in the morning before his 12:49 p.m. tee time on Friday, fans at Southern Hills were puzzled not to see Tiger playing with his usual skill and flair. “You want to follow him one more round and see if he breaks out of this funk?” one fan asked another.

“It’s obvious he’s not concentrating,” Tida noted. She’d made it to the course in time to see her son bogey hole after hole. Earl was doing well enough to request a TV so he could watch from his hospital bed.

Tiger shrugged off his disappointing score of 78. “I didn’t want to be out there today, because there are more important things in life than golf,” he said as he left the 18th green to return to the hospital. “I love my dad to death. I’m going to see him now… Hopefully he’s OK.”

Earl is released from the hospital after four days. “I’ve got to shape up now, God’s telling me,” he says. But his father’s brush with mortality has rocked Tiger deeply.