From a rain sodden Celtic Manor we found ourselves in a similarly moist location eight hours west by plane in what is colloquially known as 'Hotlanta' last week. If you have ever had a bucket of warm water thrown over you while fully clothed, then you will understand what kind of humidity we were coping with at the Atlanta Athletic Club, scene of the 83rd USPGA Championship.
As cicadas rasped, woodpeckers pecked and the Chattahoochee river, oozing by the 13th tee, exuded its murky thick haze, if you closed your eyes you could have been forgiven for thinking you were in an equatorial jungle and not on the manicured and redesigned back nine at Bobby Jones' old golf club.
These were conditions, that given a choice, playing golf would be placed very low on the list of priorities. Indeed, I found myself a one stage in a sort of trance, dreaming of a windswept links at home, battling the elements of winter wearing thermal underwear and as many sweaters as is physically possible. How the grass is always greener . . .
The Europeans as ever, with a combination of jet-lag and an instinct for self preservation, set out for their practice rounds as soon as the sun made an appearance through the mushy haze of the rising moisture from the golf course. As the heat intensified most of them looked like they had forgotten to put on their incontinence undies. There must surely be a strong case for allowing them to wear shorts in these conditions, thankfully the caddies were allowed to expose their legs.
Padraig Harrington was the only European to have acclimatised by playing in the Buick tournament in Michigan the previous week. This was in keeping with his nothing left to chance diligence. The conditions there were even more difficult. Harrington had finished tied for sixth. He also spent the week on the practice range as long as light permitted.
This was one of Padraig's worst performances in an American major, perhaps he should tone down his work rate at such energy sapping locations. Even if you are fit, these conditions are bordering on the inhumane. In fact the Europeans put on a fairly miserable showing between them, it may well have been due to the trying physical conditions.
Someone who relishes the challenge no matter what the conditions is Tiger Woods. His feat of making the cut last Friday is probably more impressive than many of his victories. His victories have been inspired displays of skill combined with determination. Faced with the likelihood of missing the cut for only the second time in his professional career he dug deep even by his own standards. As he waited to play on the 15th tee he asked the TV person what the projected cut was. Tiger was two over par and the cut at the time was predicted at level par.
This is a question that most mortal golfers are reduced to asking on many Friday afternoons in hope of an attainable response. Tiger usually has the scoreboard to consult on what it is going to take to win on Sunday afternoon, the Friday afternoon cut mark has only once before been a serious consideration.
Making a cut is frequently more difficult than being in contention and winning an event. Normally when you are in contention it means that you are swinging well and holing putts. It tends to be the opposite at the cut end of the scoreboard. So when Tiger hit his five iron to the front left side of the 15th green - coming to rest some 40 feet from the pin - it was about normal for the way he was playing, he was not using his A-game.
With the look of intensity on his jaw clenched face it probably should not have come as a surprise to me and the rest of the spectators that he should have holed the putt which would have gone at least eight feet past the pin had he missed. The inspiration, the determination, the mind-set as they say in America. Call it what you will, it is verging on the super-natural that this relentless competitor continually rises to the occasion.
When Tiger's unlikely 30 foot putt rattled into the bottom of the cup on the next hole it brought him to level par from where he knew he was safe to make the cut.
One of the most telling comments made by Woods after his accomplishment was that when he has retired he 'wants to be able to look back and say I always gave it my best shot, tried as hard as I could'. Why would such an icon, a god in the game be so anxious and determined to scrape through a cut on inspiration like so many of the journeymen do most weeks?
Like all great competitors he recognises the importance of never giving up at any stage. This determination always stands to the 'trier' in the future. It's not the 260 yard three irons that separate Woods from the average, it's the spirit with which he competes that distinguishes this dogged competitor from the punters.
