What Tiger Woods and the Dallas Cowboys Have In Common: Mediocrity

In 1996, the Dallas Cowboys had just finished winning their third Super Bowl in four years. They had established themselves as the dominant team of the 1990s, and perhaps the greatest franchise of all time. The trio of Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, and Michael Irvin was the most feared in the league. The Cowboys already had five championships under their belts, and with the team they had, three or four more wouldn’t have been out of the question.

Except that Smith suffered a scary injury in Week 1 that left him temporarily paralyzed and Michael Irvin was suspended for the first five weeks of the season. Suddenly, a team that had averaged 12 wins a season over the last five years was scrambling to win 10 games. The team of the decade hasn’t been the same since, only winning two playoff games from 1996-2009.

But you wouldn’t know that to read the news. For whatever reason, the Cowboys are one of those teams that breeds eternal optimism in pundits, just like the Chicago Cubs and the New York Mets. No matter how many games they lose, it only takes a single win before you start seeing headlines like “Here Come The Cowboys!”

Try and imagine how many stories you’ve read over the last 14 years telling you that this year, finally, will be The Year for the Cowboys. (My personal count: 117,000.) Now compare that with Dallas’ average record over those 14 seasons: 8-8.

Like it or not, the 1992-1995 Cowboys aren’t coming through that door. As much as we’d like to see them beat the world again, the Cowboys are what they are at this point: mediocre.

Now, fast forward with me 12 years.

Tiger Woods has just played one of the most remarkable tournaments of his career. Despite playing on a badly injured knee, he fought his way through nearly 100 holes of golf over five days to edge Rocco Mediate in the 2008 U.S. Open to win his 14^th major championship. No one could question that he was the greatest golfer in the world. Jack Nicklaus’ record of 18 majors seemed a foregone conclusion at this point. He would likely break the record in three or four years, tops.

Except his knee injury was more serious than any of us realized, causing him to skip the British Open and PGA Championship in 2008. Since coming back, he hasn’t been the same Tiger, only coming as close as second as he choked away the 2009 PGA Championship.

But, again, you wouldn’t know that to read the news. Even though Tiger has averaged just a tenth place finish in the majors he’s finished (he missed the cut in the 2009 British Open), it only takes a single birdie before you start seeing headlines like “Here Comes Tiger!”

Just like the Dallas Cowboys, we desperately want to see Tiger be great again (or at least the media does). No matter how much he struggles, we still expect Tiger to win a major or two each year. And why shouldn’t we? After all, we’ve seen Tiger obliterate his competition in the past. We still have memories of him winning by a mind-blowing 15 strokes in the 2000 U.S. Open. We still have memories of the Tiger Slam, when he held all four major titles at once. We still have memories of him mowing through the PGA, when it seemed like no one could possibly challenge him.

And that’s all good and well, but sooner or later, we’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that those memories are becoming increasingly distant. 2000 Tiger isn’t walking through that door anymore. Instead, we’re left with a man who is the golf equivalent of the 1996-2009 Cowboys. We know he has the talent, and we remember all the amazing things he did, but he’s just not the same anymore.

So maybe we ought to cool it just a bit with all of the hype. Maybe we ought not to get too carried away when Tiger finishes -1 after the first day of a tournament, just like we shouldn’t get too carried away when the Cowboys start a season 3-1. Maybe we ought to forget about what we’d like to believe and focus on what we’re actually seeing – slightly above-average competitors.

I know all of this. So do you. It makes perfect sense when you read it.

But the next time Tiger gets off to a start that’s even slightly above average, I know I’m going to find myself paying attention, and I’m sure you will, too. We just can’t help ourselves.