An Open Letter To Tiger Woods

How are you? How are your kids? I was glad to hear that you are doing a lot better, physically.

I was sorry to see you struggling so badly in the heat at last week's PGA Championship golf tournament. I know that you are not accustomed to missing the cut in a tournament, but this was your first time back after rehabbing your injuries. Give yourself time.

I'm concerned about you, Tiger. People have been saying things about you, lately, that you may have heard and that may be upsetting you. I've heard or read people saying that you're no longer the player you once were; that you're finished as a major player in golf; that you'll never be able to win the four major golf tournaments that would let you pass Jack Nicklaus, whose 18 major wins is the all-time record. They talk as if breaking that record would be the ultimate measuring stick for your career, as if they'd consider you some kind of a failure if you do not break it. I know you can not say this, Tiger, so I will say it for you: You don't need that record!

Even if you never win another tournament in your career, you've done enough to this point that you are probably already the greatest golfer who ever lived. Golf used to be considered a sport for the elite class. A system was in place to prevent people of color from being allowed to compete. You bucked the system easily because you started golfing at such a young age, and you were so good, that the Powers that Be in golf had to let you compete. Your game was too strong. Coming out of high school, you were already one of the very best amateur golfers in the world. Stanford University could either offer you a scholarship, or they could watch you accept one from some other elite educational institution.

You continued to wreak havoc on the world of amateur golf, so doors that are usually shut to Black golfers had to be opened for you. There would have been a fierce competition among golf's major sponsors to help you turn professional, except that Nike knocked the ball so far out of the park with their offer, you could only accept. Then you went out and tore up The Masters the first time you played Augusta National as a pro. Just like that, a star was born, and game of golf will never be the same.

So, you changed golf for the better, Tiger. That unfair system may still be in place, but never again will anyone be able to say that a person of color can't be the very best golfer in the world. Your dominance of pro golf for more than a decade was so thorough that it was practically intimidating to your peers on tour. You set the bar for golfing excellence so high that young players, such as Kory McIlroy, had to adjust their goals and set their sights higher than ever before. And, they are playing great golf.

In recent years, though, you have gone through some personal problems that unfortunately went public. The destruction of your marriage has rattled you and the resultant negative publicity has embarrassed you. Those who seem to take such joy in poking holes in a star's reputation were just ready to pounce. You have been belittled. You have been ridiculed. You have been cast as a punchline in their classless jokes. Don't despair, Tiger. Remember that most of those people doing the laughing, haven't done in their given field even a tenth of what you've done in yours. And, how many of them would still be around if their dirty laundry had been aired so publicly?

Watching your current struggles on the links, Tiger, sometimes you seem very much alone. It seems like you are putting pressure on yourself to win; to prove them all wrong. It must be tempting to feel that way, since you know how fickle the press and the public are. Let you score a big tournament win; the kind you used to enjoy during your heyday; the kind where it's Sunday and you lead by 11 strokes on the front nine and can just cruise into the clubhouse, and all of your detractors will come running back, just as they did with Kobe Bryant. Your personal and professional redemption must seem tantalizingly close, like it's just one win away.

But, it's not that simple, Tiger. There is no easy road back from where you've been. Professional redemption, for you, will not come until you have accepted personal forgiveness. And, that forgiveness will not be forthcoming from the public or the press without the accompanying wins, so it will have to come from another source. The one who must forgive you, Tiger, is you.

Give yourself a break, Tiger. Your troubles proved that you are human, after all. You are not the first famous person to fall into one of the many traps that are out there, and you won't be the last. However, you are still one of the very best golfers on the planet. Take the weight off of your shoulders, Tiger. Let go completely of any pressure you feel inside to prove yourself, all over again. Simply play your game, and let your natural abilities rise to the top and take you where they may.

It may not immediately be the way it was. You may have to be satisfied with what others would call insignificant victories. But, you don't owe your critics anything, nor the press, nor the fans. The only important things you owe, you owe to yourself, and those are self-forgiveness and self-acceptance. Give yourself those things and truly turn your back on anyone else's expectations, and you will win again, Tiger. It might not be at Augusta National. It might not be at the U.S. Open. But with self-love and self-respect back in place, the small victories you will gain just might be the greatest wins of your entire career.

That's all the advice I have for you, Tiger. I hope you'll consider it to be constructive and in good spirits. I wish you the best of health, physically and mentally. Please give your children a big hug, for me.

One last thing, Tiger: When you do make it back to the winner's circle, remember the ones who stuck with you when you were down.

Respectfully,

David W. Coleman