Facing a backlash and an army of fellow young lions, Tiger mounts his defense at Augusta

By ROBERT SULLIVAN

he seeds were sown across a lawn in Augusta, Georgia, a year ago, as the ball slid toward the cup and dropped, as the arm pistoned and the roar went up around the green, around the world. Too much, too soon for young Tiger Woods. Much too much, much too soon. Time for a backlash.

At first it was grumblings. The media grumbled about getting stiffed whenever Tiger played a round over par. His colleague pros grumbled about the kid's arrogance. Sponsors grumbled when their largesse and sycophancy were insufficient to lure Tiger to their events. As the Year of the Tiger wore on and Woods reacted to the first-ever downturn in his golfing fortunes with displays of petulance, the grumblings turned to rumblings. Now, as Tiger Woods approaches his Masters defense without his A game--a wounded animal--the nattering nabobs are thick on the course.

The backlash is cataloged for your convenience in John Feinstein's new book, The First Coming: Tiger Woods: Master or Martyr?, a curious volume with two subtitles and 88 pages. This is the second offering in Ballantine's trade-paper-of-the-month series, wherein big-name writers pick a topic and cash an advance check for $100,000 (Vincent Bugliosi's take on Paula Jones was the first). Feinstein, author of the best-selling sports book ever, A Season on the Brink, now takes on Tiger, neatly coincidental with tee time in Georgia. "If there is one thing in his life that Tiger cannot own outright, it is his dream," writes Feinstein, with something just shy of sympathy. "He shares it with a father who honestly believes that he is responsible for Tiger's greatness. He shares it with a management company that sees him as a money machine that must be pumped dry before he escapes... And he shares it with a public that wants him to be the sweet, sensitive guy it sees in his commercials, and is shocked and dismayed when he turns out to be a 22-year-old who tells dirty jokes, stamps his foot when he doesn't get his way and stalks angrily off golf courses when he shoots 74."

The First Coming will surely riffle the azaleas this week in Augusta, but it's not much of a book. It is poorly edited, if it was edited at all, with a double-clutching conclusion--martyr, messiah? messiah, martyr?--that lurches to a close by deciding that the future is in the hands of tomorrow and vice versa. So it would be easy to dismiss The First Coming out of hand. But what of this seemingly requisite backlash? America has become positively Australian in its tall-poppy syndrome, its societal propensity for chopping off an individual's head should it peek above the pack. Consider Tiger's record: among the things he has not done in the past 12 months is get busted for drunk driving, beat up women, shave strokes or put a choke hold on his swing doctor, Butch Harmon. In the '90s run of things, his behavior as a sports hero has been exemplary. And if he's cocksure, hey, he's 22 and can play golf like...

Like Jack Nicklaus? Well, that's the question, isn't it? And that's what's behind a lot of this agita. Feinstein and the boo-birds are upset because Team Tiger was so brash as to herald the next Nicklaus on the basis of a single (admittedly stunning) win at the Masters. And Tiger's yea-sayers are upset because their man hasn't won on tour since last July.

Again let's look at the record. Tiger has done everything sooner than Jack did. He won three U.S. Amateurs to Nicklaus' two, won his first tour event at 20 and his first major at 21. Nicklaus was 22, Tiger's age now, when he won his first pro tournament, the U.S. Open. The next year Nicklaus won the Masters and the PGA en route to his record 18 majors, capping the whole with his brilliant Masters win in 1986 at age 46, his sixth win in Augusta. It's unfair to say Tiger will top a career like that, but given his start, he may. Nicklaus, no less, foresees 10 Masters green jackets for the youngster.

If anything, it may be tougher for Tiger. Nicklaus was challenged by Arnold Palmer and Gary Player early in his career, by Lee Trevino and Tom Watson later. Tiger will tee it up against Brit Lee Westwood, 24, South African Ernie Els, 28, Swede Jesper Parnevik, 33, and Americans Justin Leonard, 25, David Duval, 26, Phil Mickelson, 27, and Davis Love III, 33, for years to come. Leonard, Love and Els all won majors last year, and Leonard and Els are playing better than Tiger coming into the Masters.

What ails the kid? Look to the flat stick. He's still scintillating off the tee and is more accurate with his irons than he was a year ago. But ever since he knocked the ball off the green and into the drink during last September's Ryder Cup, his putting has been all over the lot. Boldness is good, and youth will be bold, but rashness is bad--especially in golf--and turning a seven-footer into an eight-footer coming back is not the way to score. Augusta's fairways are wide and welcoming for Tiger's booming drives--he'll again be hitting wedge to the par fours--but the greens are famously made of glass. Last year Tiger, beloved, was stroking with confidence and saw nothing but the bottom of the cup. This year, with Tiger under pressure, we shall see.