Chapter 5

Cypress, California

March 28, 1989

A letter arrives, addressed to thirteen-year-old Eldrick “Tiger” Woods.

“Dear ‘Tiger’!” Stanford University golf coach Wally Goodwin writes. “Here at Stanford I am finding that it is never too early to get word out to you exceptional young men concerning what it will take a few years down the road in terms of application to Stanford.”

Goodwin is looking for “Winners!” and goes on to advise the seventh grader that while “athletes get a bit of a break,” gaining entrance to Stanford “takes SAT scores of 1200 or so” and a 3.6 GPA.

Nothing could have pleased Tiger’s parents more. The rules of the Woods house are:

1. Education before golf.

2. Homework before practice.

3. No back talk.

4. Respect your parents.

5. Respect your elders.

As Tiger later tells the Los Angeles Times, “School comes first, golf second. How much practice I do in golf is determined by how soon I finish my homework. You can’t accomplish anything without an education. I definitely plan to finish college before thinking of turning professional.”

Tiger’s strongly self-motivated. The two questions Earl boasts of never having to ask are:

Did you practice? And Did you do your homework?

The junior high student and three-time Junior World winner (1984, 1985, 1988) replies with what Wally Goodwin calls “a perfect letter,” assuring the coach that his current GPA is 3.86, “and I plan to keep it there or higher when I enter high school.”

Furthermore, he says, “My goal is to win the Junior World in July for the fourth time and to become the first player to win each age bracket. Ultimately I would like to be a PGA professional. Next February I plan to go to Thailand to play in the Thai Open as an amateur.”

Carl Vanderbosch, Tiger’s history teacher at Orangeview Junior High, can vouch for the academics. When preparing his lesson plans for the incoming seventh graders and seeing “the name Tiger on the class roster,” he “expects a rambunctious kid.” Instead, he finds that the new student has “an amazing attention span” and a well-developed “sense of self.”

During a lesson on Asian history and religion, Tiger “raises his hand to volunteer that he comes from a Buddhist background. Just the way he carries himself,” Vanderbosch says, gives the impression that his student “takes life as I imagine a Buddhist might.”

Buddhism has always been part of Tiger’s upbringing: Tida is a devout Buddhist who’s raised her son in the faith. She grew up north of Bangkok, not far from the famous bridge over the River Kwai, and made Earl accompany her to the Temple of the Reclining Buddha on their first date, which happened to fall on a holy day.

Not exactly Earl’s idea of a fun time, but he was no match for his future wife’s determination. “What could I do?” he says in faux exasperation. “I took her to the damn church.”

Tida also ensures that her son is connected to his Thai heritage and family—her mother, Chardcharvee, lived with them for a while when Tiger was young, and Tida brought him to visit Thailand in 1984, at age eight, where he met his grandfather, Vit. Tida’s father, whom she describes as “built like my son, tall and slim,” gave Tiger a mother-of-pearl Buddha statue that the boy still treasures.

“Tiger, you pray to Buddha yet?” Tida will ask in the same breath as inquiring after his schoolwork. Every good or bad result requires a visit to the monks at the nearby Buddhist temple, and on special occasions such as his birthday, Tiger presents the monks with gifts of rice, sugar, and salt.

“I like Buddhism because it’s a whole way of being and living,” Tiger says. “It’s based on discipline and respect and personal responsibility.

“I believe in Buddhism. Not every aspect, but most of it. So I take bits and pieces.”

He has a small but tight group of friends, including neighbor Mike Gout and junior high pal Bryon Bell. While maintaining a nearly straight-A average, he’s also a student of golf. In his bedroom, decorated with books, motivational sayings, and Jack Nicklaus posters, Tiger reads about the great golf courses. The St Andrews Opens, by Bobby Burnet, is one well-worn text.

When he’s fourteen, Golf Digest ranks him “America’s third-best junior amateur.”

The pressure is on.

But his competitive spirit is strong—so strong that his dad works to keep it in check. “It’s a constant fight for me to get him to go out and just have fun playing a round of golf,” Earl says.

The thrill of the win, Tiger says, is “hard to describe. It feels like a lion is tearing at my heart.”