Jackassalope

Hail to the King.

Tiger Woods sunk a 25-foot putt to win the Arnold Palmer Invitational this weekend, and I couldn’t be happier. I don’t know what it is about Tiger that makes me root for him, but I do. I usually don’t like dynasties because the victorious underdog is the most exciting story. That’s what people like to see. That’s what Hollywood movies are about. That’s when legends are made. But with Tiger, it’s different.

He’s won so much, he’s become the underdog. Tiger was seven shots behind going into the weekend. He hadn’t lost in six months. The odds were against him, but yet again, he pulled out his putter on the 18th green and dashed the hopes of the underdog. The writers were ready to tell Bart Bryant’s story. They were eager to verbally recount his hardships and rise to the top. This was Bryant’s day. The day David beat Goliath, or was it? David can’t beat Goliath, because the odds have shifted against Goliath, thus, Goliath is David.

Tiger simply refuses to go down, and I don’t want him to. If he plays, I watch. If he wins, I cheer. If he loses, I say “you’ll get ‘em next time.” He’s the unlikely hero that brought golf into the forefront of the modern era, and I thank him for that. In return, I hope he wins every time he steps onto the fairway. I want him to sink a 30-footer. I want him to be 15-strokes ahead. I want him to break all of the records. I want the underdog to achieve the impossible, by being not only the best, but better than the best even when it’s an impossibility.