Car crash, smashed windows, transgression, mistresses, infidelity - yes, this post is about Tiger Woods, as if you haven't reached the point of vomiting in disgust upon hearing about the greatest golf player of all time, and his self-inflicted mind-blowing-shattering of image. Although, this post has nothing to do with his car crash, smashed windows, transgression, mistresses (porn stars? pan cake restaurant waitresses?), infidelity, or even his recently announced "indefinite" hiatus. This post is about my two cents on why he was (depending on how he deals with the crisis, still is) the dominant golf player that he was.
We as human beings are here today roaming around the earth because of one reason - we survive. Survival is our most basic instinct. It's the first thing that we need to address every morning when we wake up, before anything else. But golf has nothing to do with survival ... unless you're trying to break the windows of a car to save the driver.
At the very top level, golf is a game of the mind - the player with the most intent of mental strength wins. When a whisper from a spectator standing twenty feet away can affect your game, the power to focus is the ultimate weapon. External noises are relatively easy to handle, internal disturbances are a different matter; while everyone can control their conscious thoughts with a varying degree of ease, it's those who can keep their subconscious voices in check that'll reach the purest level of mind power. And apparently, Tiger has been the best on the golf course for a long while. After the recent car crash and its ensuing jaw-dropping revelation, I think I might have just cracked the secret to Tiger's success in the game of golf.
Here's my two cents ...
Given the ease with which we can dispense of the external factors and the conscious thoughts, let's dive straight into the deepest of our mind - the valley of our subconsciousness. And I assume the basic instinct that would generate the loudest clamour for attention behind our subconscious mind is survival, the first and foremost issue to be addressed in order to achieve peace of mind.
Unlike common people like me, who has to constantly think of how the next cent will slip into my bank account every moment of my waking and sleeping hours, I doubt survival would be making any noises at the back of the mind of the professional golfers. What then lurks behind the mind after the assurance of survival is established? - The desire to procreate.
As a member of a species, and to ensure the continuous survival of the species, we reproduce. To ensure we never forget to reproduce, we are bestowed with hormones - hormones that will urge us into engaging in sexual activities - sexual activities that will drive us into the process of reproduction - reproduction that will ensure our species will continue to roam this earth.
However, longevity of survival hinges on a perfect equilibrium. If the hormones never cease to drive us into the activities of procreation, we will die of exhaustion. Therefore, once the hormones is discharged after our procreating activities, it will bother us no more, for a while. If the sexual hormones are not there jumping up and down for attention, our mind will have more power to focus on other matters, like putting in a perfect swing, or stroking a sweet putt.
With ten mistresses (and counting) who travel around the world to be near him at golf tournaments, I doubt Tiger's sexual hormones have any energy left to even bother him with the slightest of a yelp. Without the distraction from the urges of the two most basic instincts at the darkest and deepest corner of his mind, he was left in peace to do the job in hand - golf swings. And, perhaps, that's how Tiger has the stronger mental strength than anyone else in golf. Of course, I'm not presuming that other professional golfers don't have sex during a tournament, it's just that nobody did it like Tiger.
I was pretty smug about this theory of mine on Tiger's dominance on the golf course ... until the news that links him to performance enhancing drug surfaces ...
Oh, Tiger ...