'Dumbass' Tiger Woods runs into familiar foe at the Masters

AUGUSTA, Ga. – The microphones were close, too close, and out came that old familiar Tiger snarl.

"Oh Tiger," Woods yelled to himself as he watched his tee shot on hole 15 veer offline. "Dumbass."

That fire was quite familiar. The rest of Woods' first Masters round on Thursday, however, was decidedly unfamiliar to longtime fans: Woods treading water with a doting, yet calm throng tailing along in polite support.

"You'll be all right!" was the loudest yell when Woods teed off, 10 years minus a day after his 16th-hole chip-in became one of the most celebrated shots in golf history. That 2005 shot caused a din that rattled off the tall trees here for what seemed like an hour. A decade later, most fans would more likely bet on Woods shooting 83 than 63. Instead, he shot 73. That fan on the first hole was spot-on: Woods was all right.

Not bad. Not good. Just all right.

After the round, Woods said his playing group was "fooled" by the pace of the greens. He said his goal for Friday is to "hit the putts harder."

It's funny how with all the talk about his swing changes, and the thousands and thousands of practice cuts he's taken from dawn to dusk to get ready for this event, it's still the putter that keeps him from being his old self. Woods said he was "only nine back" of leader Jordan Spieth (who shot an 8-under 64), but that's a lot of strokes at a major event, and he won't make that up unless he putts better.

Woods' putting might be the underlying plague during his steady decline from unbeatable to this state of mediocrity. Yes, there have been injuries and scandal and age and swing coach firings, but the story of Woods' short game is telling as well.

Ten years ago, during the season when he holed out that chip on 16, he made 89.33 percent of his putts of 10 feet or less (according to PGATOUR.com statistics). That percentage has since slipped year after year – to 88.33 in 2006 to 87.5 in 2007. It dipped to 86.65 in 2011 and 85.52 last year. There was one notable exception, 2009, when Woods made 90.44 percent of those 10-foot-and-under putts, and that was one of the better years of his career: nine top-two finishes and more than $10.5 million in earnings. He did not win a major in '09, but only twice in his entire career did he have more top-10 finishes than he did that season.

So all the scrutiny of Woods' swing may have less to do with his struggles than everyone thinks. The aftermath of the "dumbass" comment is evidence: He did block his drive, but he ended up saving par on the hole. When he excels at his short game, he blots out the errors.

Now consider the third hole, in which Woods fired an amazing drive. On a 350-yard par 4, Woods blistered his tee shot to the apron – a 320-yard strike. He had less than 100 feet left to get up and down. He took eight practice swings only to misjudged his chip, leaving himself a long putt for birdie. He missed and Woods wound up with par – the same score as on the "dumbass" hole.

The old Tiger surely would have made birdie there.

Thursday was a good return to competition for someone who's played so little lately (this is his first competitive round since February) and and so poorly when he does actually play – 1-over isn't bad at all for a first-round score at a major. It's just that the sentiment around him now is more one of appreciation than expectation. Making the cut Friday would likely mean two more chances for fans to see Woods play as opposed to a weekend attack on the leaders.

When he walked off the front nine, an older woman on the ropeline shouted in his direction: "Thank you for all you've done!" Woods was jolted from his usual impenetrable stare and made eye contact with the patron. "Thank you very much," he said. The woman was delighted. "What a gentleman!" she bellowed. "Tiger Woods!"

There were other little moments like that on Thursday. Clarence Williams, the former NFL running back who is now in enterprise software sales in Silicon Valley, flew overnight from Seattle through San Francisco to Atlanta to walk 18 holes with Woods. "Nice to see you, Tiger!" he shouted on the second hole. Woods tipped his cap.

"I admire the journey he's on," Williams said. "Considering he has it all, finding the will to win and compete. I can only imagine what the last nine weeks of his life were like."

These types of comments, thanking him for all he's done and admiring his journey, almost speak to Woods' place in lore more than his place in modern golf. Woods himself has no hand in this – "I'm still in it," he insisted after his round – but it's somewhat poignant how, 10 years after he was so unstoppable, he's a repository for memories more than for impending highlights. Williams didn't fly all night to watch Woods dominate; he flew all night to watch Woods play.

The expectations will ramp up mighty quickly if Woods gets his putting game together. That kind of sudden excitement would thrill the crowds here like nothing else can.

For now, though, there's this strange distance between an impatient star cussing himself out and a patient crowd who's just happy he's in their midst.