Columnist Adam Candee: Pause to reflect on Tiger’s greatest accomplishment

Adam Candee

Wednesday, May 18, 2005 | 9:01 a.m.

Adam Candee covers golf for the Sun. Reach him at (702) 259-4085 or by e-mail at candee@lasvegassun.com.

We become prone to hyperbole every time Tiger Woods does something with a golf club.

It's just what the best do to us. We're a culture that craves superlatives, often to a fault.

Naturally, the rush to praise Woods' now-capped streak of 142 consecutive cuts made on the PGA tour has been swift after he finally enjoyed a weekend without competitive golf by shooting 1-over in the first two rounds of the Byron Nelson Championship. And for once, we've found a feat in sports that is worth every bit of admiration we can throw at it.

It's been called Woods' greatest career accomplishment to date in more than one account. While his 12-stroke victory at the 1997 Masters and his "Tiger Slam" of holding all four major titles at once in 2000-2001 both deserve consideration, it is hard to dispute the cut streak's magnitude in Woods' trophy case.

We love to measure Tiger by his highs and lows. We're amazed and awed by how much better he can be than everyone else out there, and we're seemingly appalled when he fails to attain that level on a weekly - even daily - basis. He made national news by going the better part of three years without winning a major, something most golfers would sell their souls to do just once.

His runaways at Augusta National and Pebble Beach are the easiest to see, encapsulated four-day testaments to greatness. The cut streak, however, is the greatest of his feats because it proves the enduring nature of his talent. Even when he wasn't better than everyone in the world, as we expect him to be, Woods was still better than most everyone on Earth.

In baseball, it's the equivalent of a pitcher that wins without his best stuff. Even without the 100 mph fastball and cliff-dropping curveball that define his most impressive moments, Woods achieved consistency that no one else ever has.

The cut streak is not the sexiest car in his garage. It's more like Tiger's Honda Accord that still seems to run like clockwork at 200,000 miles, even through desert heat and mountain snow. It may be a more abstract concept than his big wins, but give this streak its proper due because it deserves plenty of due.

Big Stakes

Even the shuttle driver from the CasaBlanca Hotel to the golf course understood the only major flaw in the Big Stakes Match Play: the host city.

Seriously, Mesquite? You want to sell yourself as the high-rollin', big-ballin' golf tournament and you play in Mesquite? The only Big Stakes involved in playing in Mesquite are those of people willing to try the 99-cent spaghetti and meatball special at the nearby truck stop.

The tournament itself lived up to its billing, as a pair of mini-tour players named David Ping and Garth Mulroy introduced themselves to the golf world by winning $3 million for six days of work. The quality of play and the drama of the final match provided everything that founder Steve Bartkowski could have wanted. The marketing of the Big Stakes gave it a mostly major-league feel, which is saying something in the fly-by-night realm of startup sports events.

Let's not knock Mesquite overall. For a weekend vacation or a retirement home, Mesquite is a great spot. The CasaBlanca itself did a fine job of hosting. It's quiet and relaxing, a nice break from the faster pace of Las Vegas.

In other words, great for what it is, but not exactly Big Stakes material. If they hold it again in 2006, get this thing down to Vegas. It's only natural.

We're sure the price was plenty right for starting the tournament in Mesquite and co-opting a golf course for the better part of a week is certainly not easy. But this event deserves more than the obscurity of holding it more than an hour away from the city to which its name tries to attach itself.