Chapter 76
Farmers Insurance Open
Torrey Pines
La Jolla, California
January 27, 2017
The Farmers Insurance Open—where Tiger’s won an astonishing seven titles (1999, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, and 2013)—is a tournament in which “fans loved to see Tiger really romp and smash us and win by a lot,” says 2009 British Open Champion Stewart Cink.
It’s played every year at Torrey Pines, the same course where in 1982, Earl brought six-year-old Tiger to the Andy Williams–San Diego Open (as it was then known) to watch Johnny Miller beat Jack Nicklaus by a single stroke. Tiger also won six Junior World Golf Championship division titles here as well as the historic 2008 U.S. Open, where he triumphed despite the shredded ACL and the several stress fractures on his left leg.
His previous wins here bring Tiger a jolt of confidence, but history does not repeat itself. He misses the cut at Farmers after shooting a 76 in the opening round and making what he calls “dumb mistakes” in the second.
“Playing tournament golf is a little bit different than playing with your buddies at home in a cart,” Tiger admits. “I need to get more rounds under my belt, more playing time, and that’s what I’m trying to do.”
Less than two weeks later, Tiger watchers spot a disturbing sign. At a pre-tournament interview for the Dubai Desert Classic, in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, Tiger settles uneasily into his chair, clearly in pain.
Citing back spasms, Tiger withdraws after the first round, then withdraws from the next two PGA events, the Genesis Open and the Honda Classic. Back in January at Torrey Pines, Tiger told reporters he was preparing to play the Masters in April. A season barely begun already seems in jeopardy.
Tiger confides in Jack Nicklaus, who recommends a physical therapist. The practitioner would be only the latest to administer a yearslong battery of ineffective treatments. “I tried everything,” Tiger says. “I tried stem cell. I tried Lidocaine. I tried Marcaine, nerve block. Nothing took the pain away.”
The forty-one-year-old may have to consider a fourth surgery on his back. Now that the previous microdiscectomy procedures have failed, that leaves spinal fusion. He’s resistant to the idea, considering it “a very negative thing,” Tiger says. “It would mean the end of my career. The word fusion means you’re done.”
Yet his options to live a pain-free life are dwindling. The feeling of swinging a golf club is as excruciating, he says, as “playing the game bloody knuckles… the uncomfortableness of when you hit your funny bone, how much that hurts… now do that 1,000 times per day and see what that feels like.”
On April 4, Tiger dons one of the four Green Jackets he’s won and joins fellow members of the “Masters Club” for this year’s Champions’ Dinner. Ben Hogan started the winners-only society in 1952, and the yearly tradition continues in the upstairs dining room at the Augusta National clubhouse.
Tonight’s Champions’ Dinner is the first since 1959 without Arnold Palmer. Despite the prime-rib menu, inspired by the traditions of England, homeland of the defending Masters champion Danny Willett, everyone is missing the charismatic King.
Decades before the crowds that gathered for Tiger Woods, there was “Arnie’s Army,” the legions of fans who lionized Palmer and even helped popularize his favorite drink—half iced tea, half lemonade—as “an Arnold Palmer.”
“I’ll have a Mr. Palmer,” was how the man himself ordered his signature beverage—always with a wink.
Three-time Masters champion Nick Faldo is planning a sartorial tribute, saying, “I’m wearing his clothes all week,” including “a fancy gray outfit” (Palmer’s favorite color) for the lighthearted pre-tournament Par 3 Contest. Palmer especially enjoyed reminding younger golfers that he was the 1967 Par 3 champion.
In The 1997 Masters: My Story, Tiger’s instant New York Times bestseller, he fondly recalls making a hole in one on the 9th while playing with Mark O’Meara and Arnold Palmer in the 2004 Par 3. “I still have the scorecard with Arnold Palmer’s signature on it,” Tiger says. “I just thought it was the coolest thing in the world that I made a hole-in-one with Arnold.”
Tonight, the mood is somber. Memories are shared around the table. So is one seismic secret:
“I’m done. I won’t play golf again,” Tiger whispers to a fellow Masters champion.
His spinal fusion surgery is scheduled for a little less than two weeks away.
On April 17, Dr. Richard Guyer of the Texas Back Institute performs L5/S1 spinal fusion surgery. The anterior lumbar interbody fusion procedure involves removing a degenerated disc, replacing it with a metal cage, and then fusing the surrounding spinal bones together to add stability and diminish severe back and leg pain.
Tiger is recovering from the surgery that May when Jack Nicklaus gives an interview to Golf.com that touches on revelations from the April 4 Champions’ Dinner. Without naming Tiger’s confidant, Nicklaus confirms the conversation that occurred in Augusta National’s private dining room.
Tiger, Nicklaus tells the reporter, “won’t be back.”
“Why’s that?”
“He’s in too much pain. He can’t stand for 10 minutes.” Nicklaus goes on to explain that “it’s nerve pain. It’s not going away that easy.”
But the procedure, which Golf Digest describes as a “medical Hail Mary,” has the makings of a miracle.
When Tiger awoke following surgery, Dr. Guyer gave him a surprising instruction. Stand up.
“Are you kidding me, stand up? You just cut me open,” Tiger protests.
The medical team reassures him. “You’re ok to stand up now. It’s good.”
Tiger takes his first tentative step and is astonished to discover “that nerve pain that I had been feeling for what seemed like an eternity, that was gone. My right leg was working again.”
On May 26, the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, Tiger posts a hopeful progress report to his website, describing his recent surgery as “instant nerve relief” and saying, “I haven’t felt this good in years.”