Does Steph already rank with Willie and Joe?

Go ahead and toss up the names, the way Steph Curry might a long jumper: the Bay Area’s most compelling athletes.

The list is arbitrary, of course, people who touch the headlines but no less importantly touch the heart.

You start with Willie Mays, naturally, one of a kind, and if you didn’t have the great fortune to see him play in person, surely you’ve caught the films, of him catching a fly ball or hitting a home run.

After that? Surely Joe Montana, who starting with one poignant pass play helped turn a franchise of mediocrity into one of destiny.

No, the selections are as much dependent on priority as history: Reggie Jackson, Willie McCovey, Catfish Hunter, Jerry Rice, Rick Barry, Patrick Marleau — the choice is yours. Except for the guy who had that game of games on Friday night, the guy who virtually alone kept the Warriors alive for yet another championship, Curry.

That was some achievement, that stunning 107-97 Warriors win over the Celtics and an angry, aggressive, foul-mouthed crowd in Boston. The Warriors hit the boards. The Warriors played defense. The Warriors hit the jackpot.

There is a reluctance to make this personal, but I have been covering their games since the 1960s, for the Chronicle, the Examiner, the Oakland Tribune; covered 17- and 22-win seasons; covered their championships in ’75 and in ’15. ’17 and ’18. But I can’t remember a more impressive and emotional victory as the one on Friday.

So many factors, so many people. Indeed, basketball is a team game — hit the open man — but in no other team sport is the individual as important. He — or she — can shoot, dribble, rebound, pass and play defense. It’s what he does with the ball and what he does when the other team has the ball.

And what he does for his teammates.

Curry has had bigger scoring nights than the one Friday when he finished with 43 — there was a 50-pointer earlier this season — but perhaps not one as significant.

He was on a bad foot. He was on a franchise trailing two games to one. But Curry got on a tear. Once more.

“The heart on that man is incredible,” said teammate Klay Thompson. “You know, the things he does we kind of take for granted from time to time, but to go out there and put us on his back, I mean, we’ve got to help him out on Monday. Wow.”

Yes, wow. Monday, Game 5 of the best-of-seven NBA finals will be at Chase Center, where the fans who could get no closer than a TV screen — at a watch party or a tavern or their own home — will be able to express their joy and appreciation.

What is sport but another form of entertainment, if dictated by results and a scoreboard? The Warriors have captured the imagination of the region, mainly because of their success but also for their style.

Curry always has been likable. At 6-foot-3, a relatively small man in a supposed big man’s game, he can swish 25-foot baskets with disarming ease, which only contributes to his appeal.

This has been pointed out through the years, about stars such as Montana and Jim Plunkett and Buster Posey.

Curry is unique. He’s been called the best shooter ever. He’s a treasure. And not least, he comes across as a pleasant, well-meaning person. In a crazy world, Steph seems a symbol of sanity.

And he’s not bad with 3-point shots either.

Warriors up against Celtics, profanities

Steph Curry was trying to persuade us, if not himself. The Warriors, he said with a quiet affirmation, have been here before.

Not really. They haven’t been down 2-1 in an NBA final with the next game — in this case, Friday night — at TD Garden in Boston, where banners hang and obscenities fly.

They haven’t faced a lineup as muscular and physical as that of the Celtics, who don’t take the air out of the basketball but with their height and weight have been able to take the Warriors out of their game.

Michael Wilbon, on “Pardon the Interruption” Thursday, said don’t put too much into one result. The playoffs historically are inconsistent, coaches installing changes virtually as soon as they watch the videos.

But what are the Warriors to do about Jason Tatum? Or Jaylen Brown? Or Marcus Smart, who roughed them up Wednesday night, transforming what had been athletic ballet for the Dubs, soaring and scoring, into a pulling match?

What the Warriors are to do with their own tough guy, Draymond Green — who, alas wasn’t tough at all, calling himself “soft” — is wait.

“Everybody has bad games,” said Warriors guard Klay Thompson, who scoring 25 points (second to Curry’s 31) had a very good one.

“Draymond is a reason we’re here. We wouldn’t be the Warriors without Draymond. He brought us to heights we’d never seen before.”

Klay means to the finals a sixth time in eight years and to a championship three times in five years.

Thompson himself is a huge part of the equation. The question is how can the Warriors find their offensive magic against the defense-minded Celtics?

There is no question the Boston fans use language that, to borrow a line, would make a sailor blush. “All those F-bombs,” said Thompson.

But of course. You want to know about the people who go to sporting events in Boston, check into some of the things they yelled at Ted Williams at Fenway Park. Oh my.

The playoff games in Boston don’t start until a few minutes after 9 p.m. eastern time. What are you going to do until then, walk the Freedom Trail? It’s not that everyone is a lush, but there’s a reason the Patriots didn’t play Monday Night Football games at old Schaefer Stadium.

The game the Warriors play Friday night will include Curry, Steph promised on Thursday. “It would be tough without him,” agreed Thompson. Late in Game 3, Boston’s 6-foot-9, 240-pound Al Horford landed on Curry’s frequently injured ankle.

But he was able to walk gingerly off the floor and return to the game. Been there, done that, in effect was what Curry, iced and taped, said on Thursday.

“Plenty of times before,” reminded Curry. “It wasn’t as bad as It seemed when it first happened.”

Steph pointed out the Warriors couldn’t get their points mainly because Boston got too many. So much of the Warriors offense is predicated on how they play — or in Game 3, didn’t play — defense.

At their best, they’re grabbing rebounds and sweeping down court. For that to occur once more, even against the rugged Celtics, is not an impossibility. Even in Boston.

“We’ve been in hostile environments before,” said Curry. “We can’t get too emotional. We’ve clawed our way back, did it the last game.”

Indeed, from an 18-point deficit in the first half, the Warriors worked themselves into a lead in the third quarter.

Encouraging. Enervating. Especially against the Celtics, who rebound so aggressively and keep trying to knock you down while, in NBA lingo, you keep trying to knock down the shots.

“I think it’s just playing better, playing harder, playing as a unit,” Thompson said about the key. “I don’t think we need to make incredible adjustments. I just think we need to come out with that force, that Warriors brand of ball that has been so successful this past decade.”

If he doesn’t think so, why should anyone else?

Warriors win by playing Celtics ball

SAN FRANCISCO—The Warriors stayed in the Game playing Celtics basketball—knocking down people as well as knocking down shots—until they could win the game playing Warriors basketball.

The team that three days earlier lost the ball and then, stunningly the lead in the first game of the NBA Finals, creating panic among the fans, if not the players, on Sunday night turned into a blast from the past. 
 In a third-quarter as memorable as any for a franchise that over the years and through the string of playoff appearances has become historic for the way it dominates that period, the Dubs outscored the Boston Celtics by  21 points 35-14. Wow!

They did it, much to the delight of the boisterous Chase Center crowd, which from the very start chanted “Defense, defense,” by keeping the Celtics from getting baskets as well as making their own and winning the game, 107-88.

Yes, the best-of-seven series is tied at a game apiece, and with the two games in Boston and the Celtics having captured the home-court advantage, the Warriors hardly are in control.

 But now resurgent, they are very much in the competition.

 And, of course, Draymond Green,  pounding, grabbing, shoving—hey, this is the NBA not a pickup league—was the man in charge.

After Game 1 the guy who’s the emotional leader, as well as the key defender, showed the way he always does in times of need. Once again the Warriors follow a post-season defeat with a victory.

 Asked if Draymond was “more engaged,”  Warriors coach Steve Kerr said, “Yeah, I thought everybody was more engaged. It was obvious our level of force and physicality was ramped up quite a bit.

“What Boston did in the fourth quarter in game 1 (outscoring the Dubs, 40-16) we knew we had to come with a much better focus and sense of aggression and I thought that started right from the beginning. .Draymond played a huger role in that.”

Yes, Steph topped the Warriors scoring, with 29, but he too played the defense necessary in one of those old-fashioned wrestling matches in sneakers when there seem to be as many uncalled fouls as missed shots.

Known for their quickness if movement and 3-pointers, the Warriors, scored when it counted, that fateful third, showed they can get as tough and nasty as anybody in the lead. The belief that defense wins (basketball, football, baseball, hockey, soccer) is never to be doubted.

When Curry was told Kerr and Green both reminded the Warriors that they never get credit for their defense, he said, “It’s always been a point of emphasis in terms of trying to win basketball games. You do your job. Over the course of my career, it’s been a physical development that happened over time. But at the end of the day, from my rookie year, it’s been about efforts. A lot of work has gone into that.”

Kerr knows all about it.

“Steph was breathtaking in that third quarter,” said the coach.

And not only because in one of those classic Curry outbursts he scored 14 points in the period.  

“Their defensive effort. He doesn’t get enough credit for hjs level of physicality, conditioning and defense.  People try to wear him down, because they know how important he is to us offensively.

“So the guy’s amazing. He just keeps working on his game, his strength,  his conditioning.”

 Which is one reason the Warriors have worked themselves back against the rough-guy Celtics.

Lessons from a leader named Draymond

There’s a fearless quality in basketball players. ``Someone  ventured long ago, it’s a sport where you play without a place to hide,  in a dugout, under a helmet, behind pads.

You’re exposed. Your failures, turnovers, missed assignments are there for anyone to see.

So basketball players are talkers, communicators.

There’s an honesty in the sport. Either the ball went in or it didn’t, and you don’t require a lot of explanation.

That’s why listening to Draymond Green is as enjoyable as watching him play.

Tuesday, some 48 hours before Green and the    

Warriors begin the NBA finals against the Boston Celtics, an organization worthy of many a conversation,

Green was expansive. And why not? The man has his own podcast.

He’s a communicator. A critic. A collaborator.

And to use another word that begins with “C,” a coach on the floor.  Steph Curry and Klay Thompson, the Splash Brothers, the scorers (in time Jordan Poole may join the brotherhood).

Draymond Green is the organizer, and of course, the defender. He’s also the second-round pick in a league dominated by first-rounders. Yes, it has an effect on his psyche.

And style.

Seven years since the Dubs began their run, and Green, as we all do, thought about the movement of time. Someone mentioned viewing a photo of that 2015 team.

  “Yeah, you like my hair?”  asked Green. He’s lost some of it in the intervening years, but he hasn’t lost any intensity. Or aside from the period with Covid-19 or the injuries to Klay Thompson, hasn’t lost many games.

Winning begets winning. So even in those difficult times with

Curry and Klay injured, there was a platform. “That is a help for the younger guys, said Green. “Once you’ve been a champion you never quit, because you know what it takes. Some guys on losers stop trying. We never did.

  “From the very beginning we could look across the boards and see Steph and Klay and Andre (Iguodala) and the way they worked. It was a lesson I want our young players to learn.”

 This led to the issue of Warriors culture.

Does it exist? And if so how is it defined?

“”It’s our way of doing things,” said Green. “Of working and playing hard. Of helping each other. Of doing everything the best way.”

“Once the NBA’s defensive player of the year, Green, this season missing a block of games because he was hurt, was selected only to NBA’s defensive second team.’

  “I consider that an insult,” he insisted. “You miss games and they (the selectors) hold it against you.  When I played I was no different than I’ve always been.”

 If the Warriors are not, it doesn’t matter. They and Draymond Green are exactly where they want to be, about to play for the championship of basketball.

Pederson’s HRs help keep Giants relevant

SAN FRANCISCO — It wasn’t as if the Giants had become irrelevant. Not after posting the best record in baseball a year ago.

But they were getting pounded of late. And the headlines belonged to the Warriors, who were a step away from the finals. And the 49ers, never in the shadows, were holding drills.

So what the Giants did the past couple of days was of considerable importance. Not only did they end a painful five-game losing streak, but they won consecutive games in a manner that made one ask, “Where did that come from?”

There they were at the beginning of the home stand, getting beat 10-1 and 13-3. The games not only were unwinnable, but for the local populace unwatchable. Yes, Kruk and Kuip have some wonderful anecdotes, but how about some runs?

Like sevens come, elevens come — to borrow a line from the old baseball musical “Damn Yankees” — in the nick of time those runs came, many off the bat of Joc Pederson, some more from the finally healthy and resurgent Evan Longoria.

On Tuesday night, after an advisory talk from a guy named Barry Bonds — who well knows the art of hitting — Pederson slugged three home runs, had eight RBI and in one of those crazy classics, the Giants overcame leads, blew leads and beat the Mets, 13-12.

"It was probably the best offensive performance that I've ever been around, considering all things, like big moments in the game, the ability to be resilient even in that last at-bat against one of the tougher relievers in baseball," said Giants manager Gabe Kapler. "It was the best individual performance I've seen."

Then Wednesday afternoon, in the sunshine at Oracle Park, Kapler decided to give the left-handed batting Pederson a rare start against a lefty, the Mets’ Thomas Szapucki.

Joc hit another homer, his fourth in 15 hours or so and 11th of the season; Longoria hit his first two of the year after being on the injured list for more than a month. Mike Yastrzemski hit one, and the Giants breezed, 9-3, on a mildly windy day, pun intended.

“If nothing else, you know when a player like Joc steps in the batter’s box today, he has a good idea of where the barrel is,” Kapler said. “That just means you have this feeling in your hands, in your body, about where the sweetest spot on the bat is.”

While the Giants, who now begin a road trip at Cincinnati, were in their funk, Kapler played the manager role perfectly, which is not getting too down in a losing streak or too enthusiastic in a winning streak. He pointed out the little things that cost his team games and contended they were correctable.

What he couldn’t foresee was Pederson, who grew up in Palo Alto, having a few days like Bonds or Babe Ruth. Yet that was the hope of the Giants front office when he was signed as a free agent during the winter.

According to Susan Slusser of the San Francisco Chronicle, for his walk-up music — got to have your own, of course — Pederson has been using ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.”

Whatever works, as they say. But please, no spangled clothes.

What worked for Longoria was being patient as he recovered from finger surgery during spring training. Then he was out Tuesday with a jammed left shoulder. The two long balls Wednesday indicate he’s ready.

So perhaps are the not-ready-to-be-irrelevant Giants.

After PGA, Thomas elated, Tiger sore

On a Sunday to remember, a young man who had referred to himself as an underachiever came from seven shots behind to win a major golf tournament.

His golfing future seems secure.

On a Saturday to forget, a not-so-young man who often had expressed confidence in himself was hurting physically and mentally and withdrew from this one.

His golfing future seemed questionable.

Justin Thomas at last accomplished what he had set out to do, and in such a momentous way, meeting expectations and becoming one of the game’s elite with a victory in the 104th PGA Championship at Southern Hills in Tulsa.

That was some 24 hours after the player recognized as the finest of the era, Tiger Woods, proved all too human in attempting to repeat his surprising post-accident success of the Masters.

Aching and frustrated, Woods shot a 9-over 79 Saturday, subsequently dropping out of a major as a pro for the first time in his career.

“Well, I’m sore,” he said in explanation. Which might have been predictable. Not that very much is with Woods from this moment.

Tiger always told us he never entered an event unless he thought he could win — and of course he did win so frequently, 82 times, including the 15 majors.

One of those was the PGA at Southern Hills back in 2007, when Woods was healthy enough and younger. Now he is 46 and, after the March 2021 car accident that nearly cost him his right leg, is in need of continuing treatment.

Not many believed Woods would play the Masters in April. He not only played, he made the cut. A couple days after the first round, even he was unsure about making the PGA.

Again he made the cut in a major, but his game became a problem after his body became a problem.

After his 4-over 74 on day one, there was a brief return to the Tiger of the past, a 1-under 59. Then the weather turned nasty.

In the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical Oklahoma, the wind “comes sweeping down the plain.” In the PGA, it swept over fairways and greens, chilling and challenging.

Woods wasn’t the only one affected — Thomas shot 74 Saturday, and 67 in each the other three rounds in regulation — but Woods was the only one who had been undergoing daily therapy.

All of a sudden, that romp (plod?) to a win in the 100-degree heat of the 2007 PGA (the tournament was held in August that year) was impossibly distant.

He alluded to himself Friday after the round as “Humpty Dumpty,” his team of doctors and therapists rebuilding him each night. Yet ever the strong-willed individual, he refused to blame his play Saturday on finishing late Friday and having no time to recover.

“It’s not bad,” he had insisted. “I just didn’t play well. I didn’t hit the ball very well and didn’t get off to the start I needed. I thought I hit a good tee shot down 2 and ended up in the water and never got any momentum. I didn’t hit many good shots and consequently ended up with a pretty high score.”

His playing partner, Shaun Norris of South Africa, said of Tiger, “You feel so so sorry for him having to go through this. He’s swinging nicely. I think he’ll be back.”

Maybe not for the U.S. Open in June at The Country Club outside Boston but probably for the British Open at St. Andrews in July.

Thomas will be at every major. He’s a two-time PGA champ. Maybe not Tiger Woods, but not bad for a former underachiever.

Justin Thomas: Good words, great shots

TULSA, Okla. — One minute Justin Thomas is knocking himself: “I’ve performed very poorly in the majors.” The next, he’s knocking concession prices at the current major, the PGA Championship.

And then, he’s knocking down the flagsticks at the PGA Championship.

He’s exactly what golf needs, someone just enough out of control with his comments but for the most part in full control of his shots.

The self-criticism was made to Canadian journalist Mike Hall in April. The gripe was about the cost of beer at Southern Hills Country Club — $18 for a can of Michelob.

“Yeah, very pleased,” said Thomas of his play on Friday. “I played really, really well today. The conditions were obviously very difficult. I stayed very patient, tried to get in my own little world and get in a zone and just tried to execute each shot the best I could . . . and am glad to have a good round to show for it.”

That’s the sort of happy talk the people promoting the sport and dispensing clubs and balls like to hear and read.

But it’s not the stuff that captures attention. Bad news sells, and as you may have noticed from the candid observations from Thomas, other than his brilliant two rounds, the news was bad.

The only things that have have that spoiled Thomas’ career were expectations, his and ours.

Thomas, 27, has been blessed and cursed. He is the son and grandson of teaching pros. He also is a longtime pal of Jordan Spieth.

Jordan has his own troubles, but they exist because he doesn’t win everything, and never mind the Masters., U.S. Open and British Open.

That both Thomas and Spieth are outspoken is a joy for the media. Someone who finds little joy in the game described golf as nothing more than hitting a ball with a stick, all alone (other than galleries) in a meadow.

Other than for the purists — “Did you see how he opened his stance?” — controversy is as necessary as competition. Unless someone shoots 59. Even non-golfers would appreciate that — or is named Tiger Woods.

So Thomas’ words about himself, underachieving, or about the price of concessions at Southern Hills are not unworthy. No failing. No ripoffs.

What’s wrong with Thomas’ game?  At the moment, nothing. Asked if perhaps he put too much pressure on himself to succeed, he said, “I don't know. It's golf, so it's pretty hard sometimes.

“I mean, I like this golf course. I feel like I'm playing well. We're halfway through so it's still a long way from home, but I'm very, very pleased with where everything is at and the frame of mind and state of mind that I'm in.”

State of mind would apply to everything, everywhere. When things go well, you’re delighted. When they don’t, you tell people you should be doing better.

“You can't force things, so I'm not sure,” he said. “I've never played this golf course in competitive rounds other than these last two days, so I'm probably not the best person to ask.

“It was long enough ago that I don't necessarily remember watching to know what happened (at the PGA in 2007). I know Tiger won here, and that guy was pretty good with the lead, so I think he's kind of an outlier.”

That’s an interesting term from any golfer, underachiever or not.

Daly and Tiger: At PGA, the past was present

TULSA, Okla. — One of the best things about golf is you never get old. We’re speaking virtually, of course. Life is all about playing hide-and-seek with Father Time.

But in what other sport does a 50-year-old like Phil Mickelson win one of the big events, or a 46-year-old like Tiger Woods make a comeback?

Some of the people we used to watch, we’re still watching. Such as John Daly, who because he once won the event and is a lifetime invitee not only is in this 104th PGA Championship but, for a few minutes in Thursday’s opening round, was in the lead.

That’s because he was in the opening threesome and, like those “grip it and rip it” days of yore, birdied the first and fifth holes.

You knew it wasn’t going to last, and it didn’t. In a stretch of three holes, he tumbled from seventh to 51st, eventually sinking into the 70s after a 2-over-par 72.

That was two strokes better than Woods, who after his impressive return from the near-fatal car accident to make the cut in last month’s Masters couldn’t regain that bit of magic.

At least Tiger, who deserves the listing professional as well as a major champion, was willing to explain what went wrong: the irons were off target.

At the end of his round, the 56-year-old Daly waved off would-be interviewers and silently slipped away.

Which doesn’t make sense when you’re trying to peddle various endorsed products, if not necessarily yourself.

Golf, as in most every sporting activity from checkers to jump rope, has chosen to associate with some sort of gambling operation. According to a story in USA Today, somebody made a bet on Daly that would pay off $100,000 if John looked great with 17 holes to go.

How John looks physically is another issue. After starting cancer treatments, he stopped shaving or visiting a bar. His flowing all-white beard and locks make him seem like a character in an old western movie, rather than a two-time major champion.

Seeing Daly playing the game brought him to our attention. He only got into the 1991 PGA when someone dropped out, the final qualifier — and he won.

The victory transcended golf. He was on TV. He was at major league stadiums hitting tee shots into the great unknown.

And then Daly’s life, a mixture of booze, bogeys and domestic battles, came apart. Then conveniently, perhaps both for golf and for Daly, along came Tiger.

That Woods and Daly after their quite different setbacks were able to play at Southern Hills is, even ignoring the wager and other incidentals, a show of persistence. They both have endured pain, if of different types.

For Tiger there’s the ongoing, if impossible, attempt to duplicate the brilliance to which we had grown accustomed.

“I did not hit a lot of good iron shots,” Woods said of his Thursday round. “I drove it well, but my iron shots were not very good. I didn't get the ball very close. I got off to a great start and didn't keep it going. I really didn't give myself any looks for birdie.

“I was struggling trying to get the ball on the green, and I missed quite a few iron shots both ways. It was a frustrating day.”

Asked about his condition, Woods said, “Yeah, my leg is not feeling as good as I would like it to be. We'll start the recovery process and get after (Friday).”

Thanks, Tiger. Wish John was just as communicative.

Golf, politics and money: a PGA without Phil

TULSA, Okla. — How the 104th PGA Championship got here is a tale of golf, politics and money. And why Phil Mickelson, who a year ago became the oldest man to win the tournament — and thus the oldest to win a major — isn’t here. Yes, a tale of golf, politics and money.

This PGA was going to be played in New Jersey, considerably east of Oklahoma. On a course owned by a man named Donald Trump, who at the time was president of the United States of America.

But then came the election, and Trump’s refusal to adhere to the law, which he had pledged to uphold. And when Trump not only did nothing to quell the Capitol — whatever, uprising, riot, insurrection — but actually encouraged it, the good people of the PGA made the move to Southern Hills.

Whether Mickelson is making any moves — he hasn’t played competitively since March — remains a mystery. The PGA wanted him here. After all, how many times do you have a 51-year-old defending champion? (Answer: never.) But Phil didn’t come out of his hiding place, if that be the proper term.

We’ll know more about Mickelson when a book by Alan Shipnuck comes out in a matter of days. Already we found out from Shipnuck’s teasing emails that Mickelson lost so much money gambling, in excess of $40 million, he was forced to join forces with rich Saudi oil sheiks, whom he refers to as murderers and mother-bleepers, to bail him out.

Shipnuck has brought in Michael Bamberger, a former colleague at Sports Illustrated, as part of a writing project called “Fire Pit Collective,” and Bamberger did much of the research on Trump’s course in Bedminster, N.J.

Jack Nicklaus, who built courses for Trump and many others, and not incidentally won 18 majors, called the decision to take the PGA away from Trump ”cancel culture,” yet the PGA was thinking of it not so much of a cancellation as adaptive. It wanted a sporting event, not chaos.

In the periphery is Greg Norman, who, because all of golf is one unhappy family, joined the Saudis (and their finances) to support his own interests against the PGA Tour. Norman was no minimal figure in Mickelson’s dealings, Phil wedging his own struggle against the Tour.

When he appeared for a media interview on Monday, Tiger Woods, not surprisingly, was asked about Mickelson’s situation.

“It's always disappointing when the defending champion is not here,” said Woods. “Phil has said some things that I think a lot of us who are committed to the Tour, and committed to the legacy of the Tour, have pushed back against, and he's taken some personal time, and we all understand that.

“But I think that some of his views on how the tour could be run, should be run, has been a lot of disagreement there. But as we all know, as a professional, we miss him being out here.”

And then we swing back to money, because the word professional is in the label; the better the entry list, the better the TV ratings and eventually the better the payoffs. 

“I mean, he's a big draw for the game of golf,” said Woods. ”He's just taking his time, and we all wish him the best when he comes back. Obviously we're going to have a difference of opinions, how he sees the Tour, and we'll go from there.”

It’s hard to say where golf is going, but we know where it went, from a course owned by a former U.S. president to one in Oklahoma, hoping to escape as much controversy as possible.

Fore!

For Tiger, after 'Everest' it's the Hills

TULSA, Okla. — So here at a golf course called Southern Hills, Tiger Woods reflected on making a successful figurative ascent of a more testing piece of property, Augusta National, where stunningly a month ago he made it through four rounds of the Masters.

The right leg severely damaged in the 2021 car accident was swollen and painful the day after the Masters. But following treatment, Woods said, “We kept going from there. Let's go. Figured you climbed Everest. That’s the steepest course you’re going to play.

“You climbed it. It gets flatter and better.”

And so Woods, who never ignored a challenge, will enter the 104th PGA Championship, the second major of the year, adding a personality and some memories at a place where in 2007 he added to his total of major wins, now at 15.

Before the Masters in April, the question was whether Woods, now 46 and having undergone months of rehabilitation and therapy, could make it walking Augusta. He — and we — learned.

We also learned once again that Woods, healthy or ailing, is not going to forego any opportunity to enter a major championship, those events that Jack Nicklaus established as a standard of greatness. Jack won 18 before retiring.

Golf and tennis are sports of individuality and reputation. We watch the players we know, Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, Serena Williams. Nicklaus, even the missing man, Phil Mickelson, and how they performed in the majors, the grand slams. That’s how you add to your legacy. To your own satisfaction.

Naturally Woods was asked how he felt immediately after the Masters.

“It was was hurting,” he admitted, “but I pushed through it. It was more in the mind than body. I said, I've won with a broken leg before (at Torrey Pines in the 2008 U.S. Open). Keep on going out there, keep pushing. I know how to play the golf course. If I can just putt well, you never know. Unfortunately Saturday, I think I had like 15 three-putts.

“The thing that I was frustrated with is it deteriorated as the week went on. I got more and more tired and more fatigued. I didn't have the endurance that I wanted. I mean, I shouldn't expect it because I didn't earn it.” 

We’re all competing against Father Time. It’s been 15 long years since his triumph at Southern Hills.

The issue doesn’t have to do with that misunderstood line about not going home again. We, including Tiger Woods, might return to the place we knew, but if it still is the same — and Southern Hills has been altered — the ones who come here to play or watch are changed.

His best days are in that infamous rearview mirror, yet that doesn’t mean there aren’t some fine ones up ahead. He has designed a golf course at Pebble Beach. He has created an academy to assist and encourage young people with their education.

But most of all, Woods is a golfer.

A golfer who has survived and will never concede.

A golfer who during the media session on Tuesday that lasted a half hour was asked, “How close are you physically now to being as good as it's going to get, based on your injuries?”

A golfer who’s response might have been predictable: “It sure is a lot better than it was 12 months ago.”

Who could be disappointed in that?

Draymond knew what the Warriors needed

That kid peeking over the interview table Saturday night after the Warriors win? That was the son of Draymond Green. Maybe not quite ready to hold a basketball, but he did bring a few more smiles to a post-game situation already filled with joy.

And more than a few memories.

It seems like only yesterday the offspring of another Warriors player entered the picture. Literally wriggling across the TV screen, Riley Curry kept escaping her father’s arms as he spoke to the media.

Yes, tempus sure does fugit. It was 2015, the NBA finals when the Warriors beat the Cavaliers. Riley is 9 now.

Draymond Green Jr. or “DJ,’ is 5. His dad, stitched up a bit, tough as ever, may have been the lynchpin in the 110-98 win over Memphis that gave the Warriors the Western Conference championship, four games to two, and elevated them into the next round against either Phoenix or Dallas.

It wasn’t just what Green did during the game, his defensive work and passing, as much as what he said before the game, advising interim coach Mike Brown to start Kevon Looney at center.

The Warriors had been shoved around in Game 5, falling behind by 55 points. They needed defense. They needed rebounding. Looney gave them both. He had 22 boards. Remarkable.

“They made it clear they were going to beat us up,” said Klay Thompson, who scored 30 points, one more than Curry. Andrew Wiggins played 41 minutes, getting 18 points and 11 rebounds. Yet the presence and performance of the 6-foot-9 Looney, in place of Jonathon Kuminga — who never got on the court — was the difference.

Looney was a Warriors first-round pick out of UCLA, but injuries (two hip surgeries) and ailments (stomach issues) kept him from becoming a consistent force. Besides, more often than not, the Warriors used their small lineup, the 6-6 Green starting at center.

But Memphis, bulkier and rougher, played physical basketball. Green made his recommendation and Brown, in charge with head coach Steve Kerr under COVID protocol, accepted the plan.

His teammates liked it because not only did they realize they were getting outmuscled but also because Looney, after all his hard work and rehab, is exceedingly popular.

Thompson decided Looney needed a new nickname. “He should go by ‘Kevon Looajuwon,” Klay insisted with an oblique reference to Hall of Famer Hakeem Olajuwon, “because he really was a freak out there.”

The leader and inspiration, Green, had a lot of good things to say about a lot of good people, especially those who had been with the team this past decade of success.

“We went two years out of the playoffs, in large part because of Klay’s absence,” Green said. “He’s probably the toughest and most competitive player I’ve played with ... And look at Loon.

“There was a lot of talk in this series about fouls, and this and that should be reviewed. But this was a great series with amazing teams.”

Dare we say father knows best?

Memphis bigs are a big problem for the Warriors

The headline was yet another reminder of sporting unpredictability: “Grizzlies are running out of time to go from good to great.”

It appeared Tuesday in the New York Times, roughly 24 hours before a one-time 55-point lead made the Grizzlies look quite great, stomping the Warriors, who looked quite terrible.

It was only on Saturday, in Game 3 of this NBA Western conference semifinal, that the Warriors appeared less than terrible, constructing a large lead of their own, more than 40 points, and you almost felt sorry for Memphis. Almost.

Game 6 is Friday, and although it’s at Chase Center in dear old San Francisco, where the Warriors are unbeaten so far this brief postseason, and although the Grizzlies remain without their best player, Ja Morant and his bad knee, crazy things happen. Like the Dubs falling 55 points behind.

NBA playoff series are like chess matches in sneakers. You try this move, and then the other team tries that move. Who said Steph Curry and Klay Thompson ought to try shooting better? The opponent is not allowing either to get open.

Memphis has a size advantage. The playoffs generally are more physical than regular season games, and the matchups are so similar, the guy guarding you knows every more you’re going to execute before you do.

There was no question Memphis was overly determined — summer is just a missed defensive assignment away. The question is whether the Warriors were, shall we say, less than attentive?

After the rout Wednesday in Memphis, Charles Barkley, who can be as pointed as he is knowledgeable, told the post-game audience on TBS that the Warriors merely “went through the motions.“

Maybe a little bit too strong about one of basketball’s more noteworthy franchises, but when you trail by half a hundred points, something is wrong. Now the issue is how to make it right, when you’re built on speed and shooting rather than on muscle.

On Wednesday, the Grizzlies out-rebounded the Warriors 55-37. Yes, Memphis has the 6-foot-11 Kiwi, Steven Adams, but the Warriors have handled big guys before.

“Part of it was their physicality,” said Warriors assistant Mike Brown. “We talked about an alertness and an awareness when it came to bodies, boxing people out early, and we didn’t have that. There were too many times throughout the game their bigs, or even their wings, just kind of ran by us, and we turn and look and they’re jumping over and coming up with the rebound.”

The Warriors’ tallest healthy players are 6-foot-9 Kevon Looney and Nemanja Bjelica. Draymond Green, 6-7, usually is the center when the Dubs go small.

No Gary Payton II, no Andre Iguodala. They’re injured. That happens. No intensity? That shouldn’t happen.

Word for Warriors is ‘Code’

SAN FRACISCO--If nothing else—and there is plenty—Steve Kerr added a new description to how basketball is played, and viewed: Code

The word usually is heard in military films—“Sir, we’ve broken the Russian code”—or in those poignant lyrics of  a Sinatra song, “…I could tell you a lot but a gentleman has to be true to his code.”

Now the word has become a part of this break-your-elbow, twist-your-knee NBA playoff between the (ouch!) Warriors and the (ow!)  Memphis Grizzlies,

Game 4 of their Western Conference semifinal will be played Monday night at Chase Center, the Warriors holding  a 2-1 lead and both sides holding on to their belief the other team is getting away with something immoral, if not illegal,

In a different era, somebody involved, whether directly as player or coach, or indirectly, might say something about dirty play or (shhh) poor officiating. But this is the 21st Century, and pro hoops must be spoken of carefully. Even if you play stupidly.

   But especially in the playoffs, when each game is magnified in importance, the game grows rougher. And you get somebody like Dillon Brooks of Memphis crashing into an airborne, unprotected Gary Payton II and taking him out for almost a month.

 And Kerr, who played the game with a bruiser and perhaps the  super-est of superstars, Michael Jordan, said Brooks broke the code. He meant while contact is acceptable, cheap shots which might end a player’s career are not.

That was Game 2, won by Memphis. Then, Saturday, Game 3, Ja Morant of the Grizzlies—who had 47 points in the Game, was caught between the Warriors’ Jordan Poole and Andrew Wiggins, In reaching for the ball Poole tugged on Morant’s injured knee.

Whether it was intentional—Poole was in full denial—or unintentional, didn’t matter to Morant, who after he left in frustration,  tweeted, “Broke Code.”

Morant was declared out of Monday’s game, giving the Warriors a huge advantage.. Not that the underdog doesn’t surprise. If an 80-1 shot can take the Kentucky Derby, any qualified team can take an NBA playoff game. Other than the Brooklyn Nets.

The Warriors’ 142-112  victory in Game 3 was a reminder of their championship seasons when they won three titles and were runner-up twice, shooting 63 percent overall on field goals, 53 perc  tent on 3 -pointers and 90 percent (19 of 21) on free throws. That had been done only once previously, by the 2001 76ers.

Indeed, as Kerr (and Steph Curry frequently point out ab0ut points, the offense is a product of the defense. Force the opponent to miss, grab the rebound and then flee to judgment—or at the least an easy basket.

It doesn’t hurt that Klay Thomson more and more  regained his confidence and his touch in no particular order. Klay was 8 of   13 for 21 points, behind Steph’s 30 and Poole’s 27.

As he should have been Kerr was thoroughly delighted, not only by the victory but by the method it was accomplished. Not many games, in regular season  or playoff, where you hit the 100 point mark with 28 seconds left in the third quarter. Nor when rookie Jonathan Kuning starts, He was taking the place of Gary Payton.

“We wanted to replace Gary’s athleticism, around the rim,” said Kerr. “Memphis is a really athletic team.”

 But can it crack the code?

Draymond likes his rep, even if NBA officials don’t

Reputations are inescapable. Draymond Green understands that, as much as he understands how best to play basketball, aggressively, intensely, unforgivingly.

“I’m never going to change the way I play,” said Green in what could be considered as much a threat as a promise.

He was speaking to the media in Memphis, where on Tuesday night in Game 2 of the NBA Western Conference semifinals he hopes to do what he could not in Game 1: stay on the floor.

Green was tossed, ejected, with 1:18 left in the first half for what was described as a flagrant foul — one of many he’s received over time but in truth was a league response to that prickly reputation.

That the Warriors managed to beat the Grizzlies, 117-116, verified the idea that Golden State once more is among the sport’s elite franchises.

What Green verified was that he remains true to his style and beliefs. “The way I play,” Green said with a softness that belied his determination, “got me three NBA champions, four All-Stars and a Defensive Player of the Year.”

The championships, of course, in concert with people named Steph Curry (he had 24 points Sunday night in Game 1) and Klay Thompson (he hit the go-ahead 3-pointer with 36 seconds). One of the new guys, if you will, Jordan Poole, had 31.

So Draymond did foul Brandon Clarke, hitting Clarke in the face as he leaped to stop a jumper. Then as Green tumbled, he reached out and grabbed Clarke’s jersey, pulling hm to the court.

It made great theater, replay after replay being shown while the officials debated the severity of the foul. On ABC-TV the announcers, including Mark Jackson — your presumed next coach of the Sacramento Kings — didn’t think it was a flagrant 2, which results in ejection.

But it was. Green jauntily ran by the Warriors’ bench, slapping teammates’ hands in farewell, and quickly dashed to the locker room, done for the game.

According to the New York Post, Green had been prepared to start dancing at the call because he thought the Grizzlies would be charged with the foul.

But he was haunted by the past, the memories of Draymond being suspended in the 2016 finals, the one he blew, a 3-1 game lead lost to LeBron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers.

It’s like the kid in the third grade who acts up and then is admonished in front of the class by the teacher. From then on, he’s blamed every time there’s trouble, even if he is innocent.

On a postgame podcast, Green conceded what we all have come to realize, that suspicions linger, and who better to accuse of wrongdoing than the serial wrongdoer.

“If you’re involved in this play,” Green conceded on the podcast, “you probably shouldn’t dance. You should expect the unexpected.” A very good point by a man who, before he was ousted, got six points.

“We went through the definition of a flagrant 2 foul,” said Green. “I’m not sure that play would quite fit the definition of a flagrant 2 foul. I’m not sure it’ll meet that criteria.”

Apparently, it meets whatever criteria the NBA decides.

“Let me say reputations are earned,” said Draymond. “I love my reputation. It made me who I am in the NBA. Coming from a 35th pick who they said would never play a day. So I appreciate my reputation, in the NBA, well, here I am on TV in your living room; you come to games. I’m not one to shy away from it.”

As NBA officials are only too aware.

Warriors playoffs: Everything except Durant

Eight points is nothing. Steve Kerr told us that, emphasizing how quickly a lead — or deficit — can disappear in the NBA. But at the end of their playoff game against Denver, four points was everything for the Warriors.

They were winners, 102-98, on Wednesday night. That’s the way the league likes it.

Not necessarily favoring one team or another — although the Lakers do jack up the TV ratings — but favoring games that keep the ending in doubt and the customers involved.

Games that finish with a sigh of relief. Or a shout of frustration.

The NBA sometimes seems a mashup of talent, hysteria and unpredictability, a perfect blend in this age of Twitter and three-pointers.

When we last looked, the Warriors still were in the postseason and the Brooklyn Nets, the preseason favorites, were not. Kevin Durant had a great final game for the Nets but missed chunks of the season because of a knee injury.

Durant left the Warriors after the 2019 playoffs, because, according to some, he wanted to be on a team where he was the main man.

On the Warriors, then and now, that role has belonged to Steph Curry.

Which seems quite acceptable to his teammates.

You need stars, people who shoot like Steph, Klay Thompson and now Jordan Poole; people who play defense and control the pace, like Draymond Green.

You also need understanding and cooperation.

What would the Warriors have been like with a healthy Durant as part of the equation for another season or two? They did win two championships with him. Ah, to contemplate what never will be.

And also to contemplate how far the Warriors might go in these playoffs.

They have the third man on offense, Poole, joining Curry and Thompson. They very well might have the second man on defense, Gary Payton II.

“He fills a lot of different roles,” Curry said about Payton. “If (on offense) he’s making his catch-and-shoot threes, he’s tough to game-plan against, because you probably got your big man on him. He can roll to the basket.

“What he gives us on defense is amazing already, and then when you put teams in different positions, when they are defending us, he’s kind of roaming all over the place.”

If Payton, whose father graduated from Skyline High in Oakland before going to Oregon State and the pros, seems a bit of a surprise, well, the NBA is full of surprises. Who imagined the Lakers and LeBron James wouldn’t even be in the playoffs?

Curry, who had been out the last couple weeks of the regular schedule because of a foot injury, started the Wednesday night game against the Nuggets after coming off the bench the previous four games.

“You put your ego aside and understand things change quickly,” said Curry, who scored 30. In the final seconds, he put his hands together miming as if he were going to sleep, using his hands as the pillow. Bad taste or good fun?

“It’s nice to have home-court advantage in a game like (Wednesday),” said Curry. Four of the five games were at Chase Center in San Francisco. “We haven’t been here in so long, and close-out games are difficult.

“Like we need to feed off the crowd. I was trying to make sure they knew how much they meant to us, and how to keep them engaged. It was fun. It was electric. It was loud. It was kind of collective anxiousness in there, and a great celebration afterward.”

Something Kevin Durant, with the Nets, didn’t get to experience.

Deebo knows how to get yards — and attention

Very clever of Deebo Samuel. Obviously, he’s as adept at getting attention as he is at running or catching a football. Who knew?

So much going on, the Warriors about to take their first-round series in the playoffs — that’s a given; we need no fat lady singing — the Giants getting noticed by the New York Times, and the A’s in their endless (and seemingly hopeless) attempt to build a ballpark, making headlines if not progress.

So what can a self-declared unappreciated halfback sulking away down in Florida do but declare he wants to be traded?

You say he can meet with the people in charge of his current (and probably future) team, the 49ers, and with his advisors hold a businesslike discussion?

Thanks, but this is sports, and you’ve got to make as much noise as possible to try to make as much money as possible.

Samuel implied the issue isn’t money (although we know it’s always money) but that he doesn’t like being used as both a running back and receiver. The season for the 49ers ended in early January, when they lost to the Rams one game short of the Super Bowl. Samuel then virtually disappeared until in mid-April ESPN’s Jeff Darlington said Deebo was disenchanted.

On Monday, the Niners had their traditional pre-draft media session. However, it was anything but traditional. The first question hurled at general manager John Lynch was about Samuel.

So was the next. And the next. And the next. Not that Lynch was caught off guard. After all, he is a Stanford man, as well as a member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

“I know you guys have jobs to do,” conceded Lynch, “and everyone’s very curious about Deebo and what’s going on there.”

Indeed. A man who caught the most passes, who gained much of the yards, who in effect was a one-man offense.

What is going on there?

”You guys have seen the stories and all that,” said Lynch, which naturally we had. “And like I said, I’m not going to get into those particulars because I don’t think it’s productive.”

Productive in providing material for reporters and columnists and TV commentators? Productive in affecting a possible transaction?

The more we know, well, the more we know. But what general managers know — how and why a pro football team is put together, or torn apart — just remain secret.

“You talk about the sanctity of keeping these things private,” Lynch was asked. ”Clearly this is no longer private. Does that bother you?”

As pointed out, Lynch comes well prepared. Hey, last year didn’t he trade all those draft picks for the quarterback (Trey Lance) who will throw or handoff to Deebo? (Well, maybe not.)

The next season, it’s whether Samuel will be around to get the ball.

Whether he or the Niners have leverage in the situation is debatable. Samuel remains under contract to San Francisco. If he doesn’t play for the Niners, he doesn’t get paid.  

Then again, if he doesn’t play for them, and no deal is made, the offense will be in trouble.

“I can’t ever imagine wanting to move on from Deebo,” was the cryptic comment from Lynch. He might not imagine it, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be forced into doing it.

“You put yourself through exercises of — even though we don’t have a first, you go through the process. He’s just too good a player; 2019, the 36th pick; to come up with someone like Deebo, who to me has been a game-changing player for our franchise.

“As (Arizona State coach) Herman Edwards says, it’s about when will meets skill. Do you let guys like that walk? I can’t imagine a scenario where we would.”

But what’s the scenario seen by Samuel, the man who runs, not walks?

Warriors’ Big Three bring nostalgia and talent

The head coach, Steve Kerr, called it a good lineup. Let’s do him better. It’s a great lineup, a lineup that features three of basketball’s best the past few years, a lineup that unfortunately hasn’t been together much this season

A lineup that was on court Saturday night in a reminder and rejuvenation, when the Warriors pounded the Denver Nuggets, 123-107, winning game one of the playoffs.

A lineup that surely will be used Monday night when the Warriors, again playing at Chase Center, hope to hold on to their home court advantage.

A lineup bringing together nostalgia and talent.

Jordan Poole, the almost new guy, was — well, is brilliant too strong a word? — dominant with 30 points. And Kevon Looney, hardly a stranger, was the defender and rebounder he’s required to be.

Still, what was joyful, as well as successful, was having three of the old favorites return and work together as they did in the not-so-distant vintage years.

There they were, Steph Curry (you knew he would be playing despite being out the last few weeks with that ankle injury); Klay Thompson (after all he went through missing two straight seasons, he wasn’t going to miss this chance; and Draymond Green (whose absence for several weeks because of an injury was noticeable).

Our athletic heroes come and go with alarming speed. Buster Posey was a rookie yesterday, or so it seems, and now he has retired. Serena Williams is done. There’s always a new kid on the block. So appreciate what we have until we no longer have it.

Who knows how far the Warriors will go this season? The Suns finished with a far better record. Curry, echoing the thoughts of those who feel disrespected and unappreciated, complained before the post-season began.

“Nobody is picking us to come out of the west," he said. "At least I don't think, except our families.” Which is understandable. The Dubs had too many people hurt.

Now the injured are back. Now it’s a page from the past. Except the Warriors are older, and there are numerous younger guys, ready to move in. It’s the nature of sport. And life.

Steph, Klay and Draymond are still around, however, giving their all and giving us an opportunity. Five years from now, we’ll reminisce, and then realize what we had — if we haven’t realized it already.

“It’s very special,” Thompson said of working his way back and reuniting with the other two — and returning to the playoffs.

“I thought about all the days in the gym.” Thompson said of his long rehabilitation, “in the doctor’s office, on the surgery table, and just be flying up and down the court, be knocking shots down and playing solid defense.

“It was a surreal moment for me, and to do it in front of the crowd we had, I give Dub nation amazing credit. They were so loud as we ran through the tunnel. Just something I won’t take for granted, just being able to play basketball. It was very surreal to me.”

For the rest of us, it was actual and wonderful. We hear and read negative things about athletes, so to hear Thompson and his teammates relish what they have is reassuring.

That the Big Three have teamed to win championships is not to be underestimated. That’s the essence of their popularity. But there’s more.

They’ve won hearts as well as games. One is just as important as the other. Watch and enjoy.

McIlroy reminds us how special a golfer he can be

AUGUSTA, Ga. — His name went from nowhere to high on the leader board, but not high enough. Everybody knew Rory McIlroy wasn’t going to win this Masters.

But at least they knew him.

Knew of his brilliance as a virtual kid. Knew of his four major championships. Knew of that collapse in another Masters that even now, more than a decade later, seems to identify Rory more than his victories.

On a Sunday when the weather reminded us of the beauty of springtime, McIlroy reminded us of how special a golfer he can be.

The 2022 Masters was destined on Saturday to be won by Scottie Scheffler, who was miles ahead heading into the final round, and a few hours later that’s what happened, Scheffler shooting a 1-under-par 71 for 278.

What we never guessed was McIlroy, who has won a U.S. Open, British Open and PGA Championship — all but the precious Masters, and that’s what stings — would come up with the week’s best, an 8-under-par 64.

That placed him at 281, which left him three behind Scheffler, who McIlroy called the best golfer in the world — after four wins over the last two and a half months, it’s hard to disagree — and also left Rory in a great mood.

McIlroy, now 32, was touted as the next Tiger Woods, and even though we know there’s never going to be a next Tiger Woods, whether it’s McIlroy or Scheffler or anybody ever, there was a bit of a link this Masters, Woods reminding us of his fighting spirit and Rory reminding us of his potential.

And because we dwell on the failure that has stained his career until now. It will until he does win a Masters.

Which with his skill and at his age is quite likely.

“I’ve had the lead on the back nine here and couldn’t get it done,” said McIlroy.

Indeed. It was 2011. McIlroy was blowing them away the first three days. He constructed a four-stroke lead. Then it was as if he never played the game before.

On the 10th tee, that fourth-round McIlroy’s drive was so awful it hit one of the little cottages — they’re known here as cabins — and sent fans ducking and his game into oblivion. An 8-over-par 80 left him in a tie for 15th, and left the skeptics ruminating: Would he ever recover?

He did win the Open that summer. He’s still not won a Masters to complete the career grand slam.

He needs to play as he did Sunday.

“I think it’s being a little more aggressive,’’ he said, “but especially Thursday in this golf tournament is not the day to be super aggressive. It’s a day to just hang in there.”

He hung in, and then with 18 holes to go, he attacked. Birdies and an eagle and a rush towards the top. But not to the top.

He was the longest driver in the tournament, averaging 320 yards. He’s never been the best putter, however, and even though he also led in greens in regulation, you’ve got to get the ball into the cup.

“I’ve always known that I can do it,” said McIlroy about playing well in the Masters.

“I love playing good enough around here. I just haven’t strung four rounds together like that, but I’ve always known I have the game to win at this place.”

He just needs to prove it.

Whatever Tiger shot, it was a victory

AUGUSTA, Ga. — There will be no references here to Cinderella’s coach pulling away into the gloom. No questions asking whether Tiger Woods stayed too long at the fair.

The game turned on Tiger on Saturday, as it does on so many golfers no matter their age or condition — remember, he’s 46 and still getting rehab on a reattached foot.

No matter whether the tournament is a local pro-am or as prestigious and difficult — at least for him; it sure isn’t difficult for Scottie Scheffler — as the third round of the Masters.

Woods shot a 6-over-par 78. He had three double bogies, one a four-putt. He played the final three holes, 16, 17 and 18, four over.

It left him, and his fans who tramped after him, depressed. It also left them with perspective.

Only a week ago, many people doubted that, 14 months after a car accident so serious that one law enforcement officer said Woods was lucky to be alive, he could play in the Masters, much less any tournament.

But he played, and he made the cut. That his scores climbed each successive round was unimportant. He made us understand what’s possible. In sports, in life.

He’s won 15 majors, 82 tournaments overall. But going the distance this Masters, no matter where he is on the scorecard, and after 54 holes he’s tied for 41st, may be his most impressive win ever.

There are days when the sun is warm and the flowers are in full bloom that Augusta National seems to be the greatest place on earth for a golfer.  

The clouds never broke Saturday. The wind whistled, and the temperature was in the 50s. For the young, in-shape guys, that was OK. For a guy who is not so young and needs to ice the repaired body parts, it was a struggle.

Asked if he were bothered by the change in conditions, Woods said, “Changed? It hadn’t changed. It’s been hard. (Saturday) was a challenge with the conditions. They were tough today. They were tough Friday. But at least (then) we got a little bit of a lull at the end.

“I mean, it’s just like I hit a thousand putts out there on the greens,” said Woods. “I didn’t hit it that bad, but had two three-putts and a four-putt.” The latter was on that demonic 5th green, which is too far away and steep for many fans to have seen up close.

“Obviously, it affected the score. You take those (extra putts) away and I have a normal score.”

As golfers know all too well, putting is very much a part of the game, arguably the most critical part.  A three-inch putt counts the same number of strokes as a 300-yard drive.

And on the first two days of the Masters, it was Tiger’s putting that kept him marginally in contention.

Yet this tournament has been uplifting, for Woods and for golf.

“Never give up,” he said of what others might gain from this Masters. “Each and every day presents a challenge. Each and every day, I get up and start the fight all over again.”

Which is the best anyone can do.

Masters is missing one master: Phil

AUGUSTA, Ga. — He’s not on the leader board. The people up there are Scottie Scheffler, Charl Schwartzel — a past champion — and Sungjae Im.

Great golfers, certainly, at least great enough to play in this first major championship of the year.

But not great names. Like Phil Mickelson.

Still, they’re here. Who knows where Phil is? Suspended? Hiding out? Preparing for the Champions Tour? The mystery, perhaps self-created by Phil, will not be solved until someone speaks out.

It all seems contrary to the nature of golf, a sport more than any other built around honesty and openness. Contestants keep their own scorecards; players are expected call penalties on themselves.

But it’s also a sport where the people in charge, the administrators, are absurdly protective, reluctant to be candid.

Someone in the NFL or NBA is fined or suspended, we are given the facts and the fees. Golf gives us the runaround.

Several years ago, Dustin Johnson, who is very much in contention halfway through this Masters, virtually disappeared from golf.

He was stepping away, we were told. Was it because he had been stepped on by the Tour, suspended? That was the rumor.

It’s been a difficult few months for Mickelson. His idea of remodeling the “greedy” PGA Tour, more specifically the money distribution, by uniting with the Saudis, embarrassed Mickelson, who hasn’t played anywhere since.

The shame is Phil had made history in 2021 by taking the PGA  Championship at age 50, becoming the oldest man ever to win a major.

“He’s been a big part of our history,” Augusta National chair Fred Ridley said of Mickelson. “I certainly and we certainly wish him the best, sort of working through the issues he’s dealing with right now.”

Ridley was asked during a Wednesday news conference whether the Masters had “disinvited” Mickelson. Ridley denied that had happened.

Mickelson has not played a tour event since January, and it is not clear when he might return to competition. He has made 29 starts at the Masters, and this year will mark the first time he has not participated since 1994, when he was recovering from a broken leg suffered in a skiing mishap. Mickelson, who won the Masters in 2004, 2006 and 2010, reportedly was not in attendance Tuesday at the annual champions’ dinner.

“I know I have not been my best,” he wrote in a February statement, “and desperately need some time away to prioritize the ones I love most and work on being the man I want to be.”

When will that be? If Phil thought his appearance would have a negative effect on the Masters, well, the opposite is true. The media, the public, want to know why he’s absent.

Tiger Woods returned this Masters after that awful auto accident. Phil also returning would have awarded the tournament its finest champions of the last 20 years, and revived a hint of their tremendous rivalry.

Come on back, Phil.