The first official round of the Masters at Augusta National Golf Club is still more than a week away. That means we're still about six days from an abject furor that will descend upon the globe, the likes of which we may not be able to comprehend until it happens.
When Tiger Woods' return hits high gear at his April 5th unscripted date with members of the media (ones who haven't been hand-picked), many eyes that will never see an iron or wood put to golf ball will be watching in slack-jawed fascination.
Fans of the game must be awaiting Woods' first competitive swings like the proverbial child on Christmas Eve.
I won't be in either group, but I can't say I blame anyone who will be marinating in front of a television until Eldrick goes off the rails or wins another green jacket (this is the tourney with the jacket, right?).
The guy's epic international appeal and the wattage of his star power has turned the personal meltdown into a spectacle for the ages. One that reaches far beyond the arena of athletics and embraces audiences that have zero interest in any sport, ...
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