Chapter 3

Heartwell Golf Course

Long Beach, California

May 29, 1982

Six-and-a-half-year-old Tiger is playing in his weekly Saturday juniors tournament at Heartwell Golf Course.

Tiger, a rising first grader, enjoys school, but it’s a separate part of his life. “When I’m around other kids, I don’t like to talk about golf,” he says. “I just like to keep it to myself.”

He’s a good student—so good that he qualifies for an advanced class, but Tiger refuses. “He does not want to,” Tida says, “because all of his golfing partners are so much older than he is and the kids in the advanced class would be older too. He is really excited about being with his own age group.”

But not on the golf course.

Competing against teenagers is the “peak of his week,” as Earl puts it, though sixteen-year-old Kelley Manos is quick with the reality check. “Do you realize this little s— is tied with us?” There’s zero animosity in the observation, only amazement, “like, ‘Wow, cool, the little guy did it.’”

On this Saturday, Tiger’s teeing up on the 12th, connecting “a nice little two-and-a-half-wood” with his Top Flite 7 golf ball. The ball carries the bunker, it rolls into the hole. Everybody in my group celebrates but me. I can’t see that high. So, one of the guys picks me up, shows me there’s no ball on the green. I’m excited—I run to the green, pick the ball out of the hole and I’m celebrating.

“You idiot,” shout the other kids. “Your golf bag’s up on the tee!” He’s completely forgotten about his clubs.

Tida saves the golf ball and displays it in a commemorative HOLE IN ONE plaque. Jet magazine’s November 15, 1982, issue pictures Tiger holding a fairway wood and wearing a visor and sunglasses to shield his eyes from the California sun.

Ebony magazine declares, A GOLFING CHAMPION AT SIX: TINY TIGER WOODS HAS DONE IT ALL, INCLUDING A HOLE-IN-ONE. Though Earl envisions a grander award—an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records—he tells Ebony that golf “is still a game and he is still a child.”

Tida and Tiger have a Saturday routine. Driving her Plymouth Duster to Heartwell, she usually drops him off with his clubs and seventy-five cents—enough for him to buy a hot dog and place a pay-phone call for a ride home.

On other Saturdays, they travel to tournaments around Southern California. Tida uses the time to coach Tiger: “When you are ahead, don’t take it easy,” she tells her son. “After the finish, then be a sportsman.”

Her ruthless philosophy doesn’t end there. “In sport,” she says, “you have to go for the throat. Because if all friendly, they come back and beat your ass. So you kill them. Take their heart.”

Tiger names the family dog Boom-Boom after Fred “Boom Boom” Couples, a golfer famous for his ability to drive the ball with distance and accuracy.

Boom-Boom goes everywhere with Tiger. When the boy plays makeshift greens at a local park near Heartwell Golf Course, the dog acts as a canine marker, finding every golf ball Tiger hits and lying down next to it.

Boom-Boom is also a good listener. Tiger struggles with stuttering—he’s taking a class to help—and he practices by talking to the dog for hours and hours. “He would sit there and listen before falling asleep,” Tiger says of his faithful friend.

When he’s not practicing with Boom-Boom, Tiger sneaks onto the Navy Golf Course, which he’s technically not allowed to play until age ten. As he’s gotten older—and better—some members start to complain and demand that the rule be enforced.

Hence the subterfuge.

I hop in the creek, this ditch, and walk on the south side of the ditch, because the clubhouse is up above, so no one can see me. My dad gets a golf cart, and I walk down past one, past two, and I lie under the bridge on three, and try and be in total disguise, so I can blend into the environment. I put rocks and stuff around me. I hide my golf bag underneath the rocks, totally trying to blend into the environment.

“You there?” Earl asks.

Tiger is always in place.

“Yup. Coming up.”

On December 30, 1985, there is a special event: “My father took me to Navy Course for my 10th birthday,” Tiger says, excited to be “finally old enough.” There would be no more hiding in the bushes to play the course in secret.