Tiger Woods's tee shot landed on the 17th green Tuesday at Bethpage Black, bounced once, then nestled up gently to the pin, almost as if it wanted to cuddle. Had this been the first round of the U.S. Open, Woods would have had five feet left for birdie, and the ample crowd would have gone ballistic.
This, though, was just after 8:30 a.m. on a soggy morning two days before the Open begins. Yet here — toting cups of coffee and stalking Woods as if he was a deer grazing in the morning light — was a gallery worthy of a PGA Tour event, if not the Open, and it fairly hummed. When Woods's ball settled near the flag, a voice rose above them all.
"It's over," someone shouted. "Everybody go home."
Woods is used to both the throngs and the expectations that come with them, be they at the Open or the driving range or the grocery store. It is his life, and as he said at the Masters, "You just become accustomed to it."
But Woods is here this week in New York, some 35 miles from midtown Manhattan, at Bethpage Black, where he won the second of his three Open titles in 2002. He arrives now, as he did then, as the world's best golfer. He will defend not only the previous championship at Bethpage, but the Open he won a year ago at Torrey Pines, and try to back up the title he took in his most recent start, the Memorial Tournament two weeks ago.
Those sorts of statistics and accomplishments are as rote to Woods on the course as his following is off it. But this week provides almost a perfect mix of the two, because when the best player in the world tees it up on Thursday, he will do so in front of quite possibly the best crowd golf has to offer.
"The energy that was out here, it's just phenomenal," Woods said. "We've never seen anything like it. It wasn't just the four rounds that we competed in [in 2002]. It was even the practice rounds. Monday was loud. It was like 40,000 people out here on a Monday. It was just electric the entire week."
The Open has twice returned to New York since that experience — in 2004 at Shinnecock Hills and 2006 at Winged Foot — so the familiarity of the fans with the field, and vice versa, has been honed. The United States Golf Association chose Bethpage Black, on a state park on Long Island, to be the first public course to stage an Open, and players spoke in 2002 — and again this week — of the gallery's familiarity with each and every shot. There is an edginess, the players say, that comes from a gallery that includes members who can say, "I birdied that hole."
"It seemed like everyone who's played golf in this area has played this course," Woods said. "There's something to be said for that."
In 2002, though, there was a different edge, too. New York was only nine months removed from the pain of 9/11, and as Woods said, "Everyone was just looking to celebrate something else."
The crowds did that. Silence in golf is a precious and expected commodity, and the click of a camera shutter is enough to elicit Woods's most furious glare. There are a few spots on the PGA Tour — notably the 16th hole at TPC Scottsdale, which hosts the FBR Open — in which raucous crowds are expected and even encouraged. Even that, though, differs from the fans in New York, some of whom bring their boo-the-bum-who-made-the-error mentality to the tranquillity of a golf course.
"They say whatever they feel, and they don't care who's listening," said Rocco Mediate, who was beaten by Woods in an unforgettable 19-hole playoff at last year's Open. "That's what I like about it. They let you have it. They're with you, or they're against you."
There will be, no doubt, a segment of the gallery that will support Woods this week, and the gaggle of craned necks before anyone else had taken the course Tuesday — Woods played two nine-hole practice rounds this week, each time teeing off at 7 a.m. — was an indication of the backers he has. In each major he plays, there is now a sense of history involved, because he has won 14 of those titles, and Jack Nicklaus's record of 18 is theoretically within reach in the next calendar year.
But New York crowds, too, favor Phil Mickelson, Woods's would-be rival. They did so in 2002, when Mickelson finished second to Woods by three strokes, one of his four runner-up finishes at the Open. They did so again in 2006 at Winged Foot, when he needed only to par the 72nd hole to win, only a bogey to force a playoff with Geoff Ogilvy — and he blocked his tee shot, hit a tree on his approach, and made double bogey.
This time, the crowd will be well aware of Mickelson's personal situation — his wife, Amy, had breast cancer diagnosed last month -- and he's expected to draw even more support. "I can't see," said three-time major winner Padraig Harrington, "the crowds being, in any shape or form, a negative for Phil."
Indeed, the player who might be most affected by the crowds might not be Woods or Mickelson. It could be Harrington, last year's British Open champion, or Angel Cabrera, who won the Masters in April. Those two will play alongside Woods in the first two rounds. There may be no experience in golf like standing over a putt to win a major championship, a situation precious few have endured. There is also no experience in golf like being paired with Woods, on any course, in any tournament.
"No similarities. None," Mediate said, in comparison to other pairings. "When you're with Tiger, everybody else is with Tiger. ... I don't know how to explain it, but it magnifies everything."
Harrington had the experience in the third round at Bethpage in 2002, when he was paired with Woods in the last group. He remembers waiting extra time for photographers to settle down, for the gallery to collect around the next tee, and the fact that no other holes were visible beyond the crowd. It is that very environment, with a New York fervor, that Woods faces this week. And it is in that environment that Woods tends to excel.