Blame It On the Truth That Ran Us Down

Congratulations to Mr. Sameer Mohan and Mr. John Petrelli for correctly naming "Box Full of Letters" by Wilco as the Monday Song of the Day. Longtime Song of the Day contestants may be shocked at my new found benevolence in allowing multiple winners, but as long as the people participate in the contest, I will, as Marie Antoinette might say, "Let them eat cake."

The preferred viewing during the last two weeks in the Scott household has been Le Tour De France, or as people in Texas might say, "That Big Bike Race With All Those Spandex Wearing Dudes". Either way, you know what I'm talking about and that's all that matters right now.

Today, as I watched the cyclists gut through multiple 2000 meter climbs, I thought about the magnitude of Lance Armstrong's achievement in winning 7 consecutive Tours between 1999 and 2005. Due to the unfortunate profusion of doping scandals in cycling's recent past there were always whispers and provocative stories in the press regarding Armstrong's possible doping, but as of now, there is nothing that connects the steely Texan with illegal doping.

With that said, I hope what I'm about to put forth never comes to pass, but if it does, it creates an interesting (at least in my mind) parlor game:

Let's say that in 10 years it is revealed that both Tiger Woods and Lance Armstrong used performance-enhancing drugs in their primes.

Which one is the bigger tragedy*?
*Trust me, I use tragedy in the proper context given that we are only talking about sports after all.

She Says You're Not There and I Should Take Care

Perhaps the vast majority of Americans can relate much more easily to an "everyman" figure like Rocco Mediate rather than the Olympian persona put forth by Tiger Woods, but in the question of relation versus aspiration, I, in the words of Lt. Sam Weinberg of A Few Good Men fame, will take Tiger Woods "everyday of the week and twice on Sunday."

In a period that has brought us instant messaging, multitasking, wireless distractions and attention deficit disorder, Woods has become the exemplar of mental discipline. After watching Woods walk stone-faced through a roaring crowd, the science writer Steven Johnson, in a typical comment, wrote: “I have never in my life seen a wider chasm between the look in someone’s eye and the surrounding environment.”

"The Frozen Gaze" by David Brooks of the New York Times.

Current Reading

Soldier: The Life of Colin Powell by Karen DeYoung

Folk Down There Really Don't Care Which Way the Pressure Lies

Congratulations to Ms. Sammie Marshall for correctly naming "Misty Mountain Hop" from Led Zeppelin's album IV as the Sunday Song of the Day.

It's probably a bit like rooting for death, taxes, and Wal-Mart, but Tiger Woods simply continues to amaze.

"He's the best player the game has ever seen, as far as I'm concerned," said Stewart Cink, who played in Woods' group over the weekend. "Just to watch him play and see how he goes about his business. I like how he stays calm and stays on task, whether he's two or three shots behind or eight shots ahead. It's the same Tiger Woods. He makes it look easy, but it's not easy."

"Honestly … everyone needs to leave the guy alone," Couples said. "Every time he gets upset, he wins by 15 shots. We have to tout him, tell him how great he is, be enamored."

"Unlike the SoCal Weather, Woods Delivers With Consistency" by Bob Harig

With Every Mistake We Must Surely Be Learning

Congratulations to Mr. Andrew Tuegel for correctly naming "All Along the Watchtower" by Bob Dylan and countless others as the Sunday Song of the Day.

I'll jump right into it today: I root for Tiger Woods. Now, many of you who know me might say, "Justin, isn't that equivalent to rooting for the Yankees, Wal-Mart, and Microsoft? What's the fun in cheering for the guy who always wins?" Well, here's the thing, he doesn't always win. I think I saw more yesterday about the guy than I have in many of his dominating victories.

You should know that I usually only watch four golf tournaments per year, the so-called Majors, or the Masters, U.S. Open, British Open, and PGA Championship respectively. As has been the case in the last decade, Tiger Woods is often at the top of those tournaments. Sometimes he wins in simply dominating fashion, particularly the U.S. Open at Pebble Beach in 2000, where he won by 15, yes 15, shots. Tiger is usually this stoic figure striding down the fairway on some inevitable march towards the history books, but there are those moments, such as occurred yesterday, where he lets us get a small peak into his psyche.

Yesterday as he walked towards the 18th green, knowing that he had been beaten by a relative unknown named Zack Johnson, you could see the wheels turning in Tiger's head. It was almost as if a cartoon bubble was attached to his head that contained the words, "This just doesn't happen to me," but it did, and that's where I think the lesson is to be learned.

It seems that the true lesson of greatness is learning to live what Kipling described midway through the poem "If", which I posted last week. "If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two impostors just the same." That's it. That is a lesson that cuts across every field of human endeavor. I was reminded of the same lesson when I was reading John Adams by McCullough. The true mark of greatness is not always in our triumphs, in our successes. Often the distinguishing characteristic of those who will be remembered is that they carried on in an indomitable way, even in the face of great adversity.

In his own way, Tiger embodies that in my mind. Today in golf, he is without peer. Sure, you may have Zack Johnsons and other figures who come out of the woodwork from time to time, but often, Tiger's greatest competitors are the history books. The reason that I root for Tiger is that even though he suffers these weeks where the moment slips away, he continues to work, continues to steel himself, and continues his inexorable journey towards the pinnacle.