New York Times: As a Rival Emerges, Woods Can Only Look On

You had to wonder what he was thinking, watching on television with his balky left leg propped on a hassock. There on the screen, in highlights viewed nonstop around the world, his kingdom was being overrun. His once mighty empire, already wounded and weakened, was beginning to seem antiquated and outmoded — so last decade, so last century.

As Rory McIlroy made it look easy at the 111th United States Open, even easier than Tiger Woods once did, what was Woods thinking?

For nearly 18 months, golf has been transfixed by Tiger’s comeback, Tiger’s health, Tiger’s lifestyle and Tiger’s swing changes. Today, as McIlroy storms the gates of golf’s hierarchy — part wunderkind, part new age pioneer — Woods finds himself mentioned only in postscript.

If his name comes up, it is generally in relation to one of his revered records being obliterated. Last weekend he was talked about in entirely different contexts: to note that McIlroy was almost the same age as Woods was when he won his first major, or to document that McIlroy hits it farther than Woods ever did, or more accurately than Woods did, or that he plays with more joie de vivre.

Happy Father’s Day, Tiger.

As Woods watched this weekend, did he realize that McIlroy was not yet 8 in April 1997 when Woods won that seminal Masters championship? He must know that not long ago McIlroy, speaking with respect but his usual candor, said of Woods:

“When Tiger had that aura, I wasn’t playing against him — I was watching on TV. I’m not sure we are going to see him dominate again the way he did.”

McIlroy later added, “He’s playing like an ordinary golfer.”

Watching McIlroy and Woods interact at times in the past year, it is obvious the now 22-year-old McIlroy feels little of the awe so common to Woods’s contemporaries of the last 10 to 12 years. The day before last year’s United States Open at Pebble Beach, there was a scene on the practice putting green when Woods was putting alone in a distant section. His fellow competitors, about 15 of them, gave him a wide berth, leaving him isolated in one corner of the large putting surface. It was as if the imperious Woods was separated by an invisible force field.

Until, that is, a grinning McIlroy, looking small and wide-eyed but far from intimidated, dared to approach Woods’s cloister. He called his name, then slapped Woods on the back as the two made small talk. Woods broke his practice trance and was soon even giggling, charmed, it seemed, by McIlroy, who soon retreated.

As McIlroy rejoined the bigger group, Woods looked around, as if mystified by what had just happened, then turned his back on the other golfers to resume his solitary putting rehearsal.

But did he, somewhere in the back of his mind, register McIlroy’s cheekiness? McIlroy at the time seemed like a young pup heedlessly willing to go wrestle with the big dog of the yard for a minute or two. But did Woods notice?

If he did not then, he does now.

If golf is lucky, as Woods watched on television this weekend, he was seeing and thinking about his first true rival as a professional. Woods has never had a rival of the traditional sort. For him, there has been nothing like the extended Nicklaus-Palmer duels or the Watson charge at the established Nicklaus.

And in this case, it is a rival not just on the golf course but off it. It is interesting to note how McIlroy has handled his introduction to worldwide fame. He has conducted interviews before his rounds — times that you would think he would be tense — that are more relaxed, gracious and forthcoming than interviews Woods has done after his rounds, which should be times of reduced stress.

McIlroy chats with fans across the restraining ropes during his rounds. He is not yet in Lee Trevino’s class, but he is smiling and approachable. If Woods can get healthy — a big if — the Rory-Tiger rivalry that will most likely ensue will see McIlroy as the more popular figure.

He will be a favorite of younger golf fans and non-American golf fans, and he will most likely win over the considerable number of golf fans who found Woods’s personal transgressions repugnant.

Then again, McIlroy will be the new thing: younger, more powerful, more hale and hearty. In time, Woods, as hard as it might have seemed even a year ago, could be the sympathetic figure. He will be aging in professional golf years, he will be the elder trying to tie a victorious, somewhat honorable ribbon on his golf legacy, and he will perhaps be hobbled as he struggles to do it. He might literally be always playing behind McIlroy, trying to catch him. There he is, Woods the underdog.

At home this weekend, as he fidgeted on his couch, perhaps readjusting the ice pack on his left knee and Achilles’ tendon, were those the thoughts crossing the mind of Tiger Woods?

The real question: How could they not be