Ever since 2009, when Tiger Woods first crashed his life and marriage and the mask of perfection melted away with more accidents, DUIs and arrests, the focus has been golf. It’s always golf — not rehab, recovery or some other effort to ensure that the sporting great doesn’t kill himself or someone else the next time he gets behind the wheel.
Friday night, hours after Tiger Woods’ most recent brush with death and the law, CNN World International correspondent Patrick Snell intoned, with concern, “you have to think now that this is going to have an impact on any potential return to the sport at the Masters.”
“It would be a crying shame if Tiger wasn’t captain in Adare Manor,” Ronan MacNamara chimed in for Irish Golf Magazine, referring to the course hosting the 2027 Ryder Cup in County Limerick.
“He’s the biggest needle mover in our sport,” Brad Faxon said on NBC.
This is not just Tiger Woods’ problem but also ours.
To recap the most recent incident: Woods was driving his Land Rover near his home in Jupiter Island, Fla., on Friday when he clipped a truck hauling a pressure-cleaner trailer on a two-lane road (speed limit: 30 mph). Woods’ SUV in rolled over. The golfing great crawled out through the passenger door uninjured. (The other driver was also uninjured.) Woods passed a breathalyzer but refused a urine test and was booked on charges of driving under the influence with property damage and refusal to submit to a lawful test.
This is not just Tiger Woods’ problem but also ours.
This is the truth that Woods and the rest of us should find unavoidable in the fading twilight of his career: Golf, the tone-deaf PGA of America and all its corporate partners now need Tiger Woods more than he needs them. And until they let go of Woods, the breadwinner who rescues them from his own post-demise ratings and revenue, Woods is never going to get the help he needs.
The otherworldly player who was once on course to win more than Jack Nicklaus’ record 18 majors? That guy is gone. He’s 50 years old, his body betraying him for the good part of two decades. He actually stooped to hitting golf balls into a screen, teasing a possible return to Augusta, last Tuesday night while promoting his high-tech indoor golf venture co-owned by Rory McIlroy. Woods’ face appeared bloated. As humiliations go for legends, Tiger Woods doing Top Golf is up there.
His last official tournament was the British Open in 2024. Woods ruptured his Achilles tendon in March 2025, and that kept him off the course all season even before his seventh back surgery.
And yet there is still this insatiable pining for Tiger to be Tiger again, like fight fans pining for the return of Mike Tyson after his plunge into the abyss or zealots of Britney Spears hoping for a comeback.
The thing is, the galleries can be excused for their unrequited love. But the PGA, the network partners and litany of sponsors? Their interest isn’t anything but greed and the absence of understanding or empathy for someone who might be suffering from more than just a painful backswing.
Woods’ absence from the 2025 Masters led to a 28% drop in first-round viewership compared to the previous year. Even though he may not make another cut at another major and play through the weekend, he still represents eyeballs and dollar signs. That’s why the PGA has been praying he accepts the Ryder Cup captaincy. Woods was offered the job for the last Ryder Cup and did not turn it down until June, while the PGA lords of the links patiently waited. These people aren’t the gatekeepers of golf: They’re enablers, siphoning any appearance they can out of a man who needs to spend more time with his kids than his caddies. Precipitous falls happen to athletic greats, of course. Many sporting heroes of the past century experienced life’s crushing defeats during and after their career highs. The galleries can be excused for their unrequited love. But the PGA, the network partners and litany of sponsors? Their interest isn’t anything but greed. The first Native American to win Olympic gold, Jim Thorpe, suffered from alcoholism and lived his last years in failing health and poverty. The greatest heavyweight fighter of all time, Muhammad Ali, became a transcendent humanitarian, but not before the punches he took during his career contributed to Parkinson’s disease cruelly stealing his physical gifts. Argentine soccer legend Diego Maradona struggled with a 20-year cocaine addiction that led to multiple suspensions and failing health. On the list goes. Baseball’s Mickey Mantle, Doc Gooden and Darryl Strawberry. Football’s Joe Namath, Lawrence Taylor and Brett Favre. Substance abuse is an equal-opportunity addiction. Tiger Woods may just be one of its most high-profile converts. Still, there is something singularly depressing about Woods’ slide toward mug shots and court dates. Maybe because of all the sublime golfers over time — really, all the great ones from every sport in recent decades, from Tom Brady to Roger Federer and beyond — no one seemed in more control, more disciplined and clinical than Tiger Woods teeing up on a Sunday at a major. He was equally as polished as he was powerful, pulverizing that little white ball hundreds of yards into the stratosphere until it landed, majestically, within three inches of a round hole in the green — a hole with a diameter of just 4.25 inches. Everyone wants to see that again. Hell, I want to see that again. But it’s time to let it go. It’s time for Tiger to carve out an identity other than the very finest to ever play the game beyond Jack. For until we let him step away from all facets of golf and he takes the time to fix himself, until his profession and fans stops clamoring for a return that will never come, we’re as selfish as he was getting behind that wheel.
Mike Wise is a sports journalist whose past employers include ESPN’s The Undefeated, The Washington Post and The New York Times. He is writing a biography of Olympic gold medalist Billy Mills. 
