Here’s the thing about Tiger Woods’ decision to take a break from tournament golf.
No one knows anything. I repeat—no one know anything about Tiger’s inner life, his outer life, or the real source of his problems on the course.
The NY Times today urged him to have more fun on the course. Over the next several weeks, other experts and non-experts will weigh in with their diagnoses and treatment recommendations. All of it will be speculative and all of it will reflect some fantasy or projection on the part of the writer.
How ‘bout: “Tiger should go to Hawaii and swim with the dolphins who will show him how to play,” or “Tiger should volunteer to be an astronaut because from the vantage point of outer space he’ll see how inconsequential winning a golf tournament really is,” or “His coach has screwed up his head—he needs to trust himself.” Or, “Tiger needs to spend more time with his kids, his friends, his dentist, his caddy, the guys who tend his golf course, or Johnny Miller.” I think that everyone should STFU and be patient and see what happens, trusting the fact that Tiger isn’t psychotic or retarded and might know better than us what he needs.