Tiger, come out and play

Last year, I wrote a column on The Masters for another paper in another state for an entirely different readership, and despite those differences, this column and that column will be the same. I’m making a personal plea to Mr. Eldrick Tont “Tiger” Woods to play in this year’s Masters tournament at Augusta National.

For the past two years, I have used my pulpit, if you will, to ask my favorite golfer to get back into the best major, again, if you will, The Masters. I will admit that I don’t watch any other golf tournament, major or otherwise, and before I was married, I lived less than a mile from East Lake Golf Club.

The Masters are it for me, always have been, and Tiger Woods was the reason I started following the game in the first place. Despite being blessed to be a sportswriter, he’s the reason why I still care about golf, especially at Augusta National. I mean, seriously, it took The Masters decades (founded in 1933) to have their first African American golfer play the course — Lee Elder in 1975, in case you were wondering. I don’t even care if Tiger finishes 17th like he did in 2015 or fails to qualify like he did in 2014, at least Tiger’s out there fighting like hell and putting on a show. Whether that show is a horror story or the comeback story of the year remains to be seen.

What Tiger Woods means to the game in so many ways is more important than just his playing in this year’s Masters, but I’m a selfish man (just ask my wife) and an even more selfish sports fan: I want to watch Tiger Woods play in the country’s foremost golf major.

The plan was to mail a thousand copies of this column to his multiple addresses, but under state harassment laws, that might not fly, so I am doing the best thing and asking via the power of the press in hopes that the three days from press time to first tee will be enough time. The odds are against me, but I’m hoping this year’s column will work.

Tiger, come out and play…The Masters.

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