Tiger, Please, It's Time to Retire

Dear Tiger Woods,

Hey man. Adam here. You don’t know me, we’ve never met, but like so many of your fans I feel like I know so much about you.

It was really tough to hear the news yesterday. We all hated to hear about yet another procedure on your lower body, this time on your right foot. A really thorough Twitter thread explained to everyone what your procedure — a subtalor fusion — looked like and meant, along with what the rehab process could mean and how fusing two bones in your foot might mean to your golf game.

This isn’t anything new to you, of course, having gone through so many surgeries over your career. You’ve had spinal fusions, clean up procedures, knee joint operations and damn near losing your leg after your car accident. Every time you’ve managed to return to not only the golf course, but major championship golf. You even won the 2019 Masters, for crying out loud. Remember that time?

You’ve made it a habit of proving your doubters wrong time and time again. I don’t know if it’s your stubbornness, your drive to succeed, setting an example for Sam and Charlie, or the voice of your father in the back of your head. I have a feeling it’s all of the above.

I’ve loved watching you play golf more than watching anything else. Like so many millions of other fans, you’ve brought so much joy and excitement to this world that hopefully, one day many years from now, you can sit back and accept the gift of knowing that. I hope the magnitude of that gift is the slightest bit similar to the gift you’ve given those who witnessed you.

All of that makes this next part the hardest to write, but it’s important for you to know.

It’s OK if you want to retire. In fact, I’m asking you to.

Don’t get me wrong, Tiger: I know you’re probably never going to read this. If by some miracle you do, you’ll probably ask, “who the hell is this guy?” That would be a fair question.

I’m just a regular fan of yours who decided to start playing golf 26 years ago because I watched what you did on the course. I’ve loved watching every single moment of your career since then, and even managed to learn a few things about life along the way. I know people get on you for your mistakes off the course, but I also know that you persevered despite the horrible things people said (and thought) about your choices. You never acted like a victim or passed blame to anyone. You owned your human nature wrapped within the fantasy world that only fame and success can create. For some people, that is too hard to comprehend.

But I’m worried, Tiger.

I’m worried that nobody has mentioned to you that it’s actually OK for you to step away from the game. The work that you’ve done as an ambassador for the PGA TOUR only pales in comparison to the influence you’ve had on the game of golf itself. People might quip that “COVID saved the golf industry,” but you established the foundation of modern golf due to your greatness and popularity. The sentiment that “no one person is above the game” can only be written now with an asterisk.

Without Tiger Woods, modern golf as we know it couldn’t possibly exist.

My point here, Tiger, is that there is nothing else left for you to prove. You owe us absolutely nothing. Yes, I know… you still want a couple of those records to be yours. We can’t fault you for that. But maybe it’s OK to allow yourself the relief of knowing that you don’t have to be The One anymore.

Long ago, your father, Earl Woods, was quoted with the following. It was as important to understand for him then as it might be for you now:

“The worst part of getting older is realizing what you could have accomplished if you'd known then what you know now. Every old person, no matter how content they seem, feels that sense of regret. It's a bitch, but it's part of life.”

Your dad is completely correct. We’re all older now. We’ve all (hopefully) learned some things along the way, including the concept of “what might have been.” As he said, it’s a bitch, but it’s what we all must experience.

In closing, Tiger, if you do happen to catch wind of this letter, just know that what you’ve accomplished can never be topped. Circumstances in the world might change to a point where another great talent wins more majors and/or tournaments, but the moments you created will never be replicated.

Know that. Accept that. Cherish it. Pay it forward to those you love.

We will miss you, but now’s the time, Tiger. It’s ok.

Adam