Witnessing the fall of greatness can be a painful experience.
Once a colossus of the game of golf, Tiger Woods has plummeted to earth in spectacular fashion.
Where once the impossible was expected, now the experience of watching Woods try to compete at the very highest reaches of the professional game has become akin to witnessing a car smash.
The slide in form, compounded by a succession of serious injuries, coincided with the most lurid of headlines about his personal life being revealed on a daily basis.
Where once the halo was perfectly polished, Woods was suddenly revealed to be no different than many others. His marital problems laid bare, the failing of his body meant there was no solace to be found inside the ropes.
I’ll admit to thinking Woods was the one, the man different to all, an athlete who seemingly could do no wrong on the course and had found the perfect balance away from the pressures of the day job.
How wrong we were.
Some will say the Woods of 2015 is getting all he deserves.
Harsh. Too harsh.
It’s easy for those of us further down the food chain to think Woods still has almost the perfect life.
Playing golf for a living, as rich as Croesus, a lifetime spent chasing the sun.
But no matter how many times Woods tries to tell us differently, it has become blindingly obvious the American’s career is on a downward spiral.
Every year seems to bring a change of coach and a change of swing.
All the while a consistent return to the winner’s enclosure remains more distant and elusive than ever.
Australian Jason Day, I think, nailed it when he said he doubted Woods had the motivation, the fire, the sheer love of the game of golf or the focus to ever return to the levels he managed around the turn of the century.
Spot on.
We all have bad days, some of us more often than others.
But professional sports is different. The adulation, the rewards, the sense of satisfaction attained from being better than anyone else on the planet must be the most addictive of feelings.
Woods needs a break, not from tournament golf, I think he needs to play more, but from the sheer grind of chasing perfection.
Golf should be a joy. A chance to enjoy the company of good people. A break from the routine, a chance to escape.
When it becomes a chore, a grind, a point on the horizon, then Woods, just like the rest of us, has lost his spirit.
A week in Tenerife might do wonders. No doubt Woods has his escapes, a close coterie of friends who can take his mind off the problems of the day.
Once this golfing week is done, and I do not expect to see Woods in contention at the weekend, it might be time for those friends to pack a case of beer on to the back of a cart, get Woods out on to a municipal course, and tell him to blaze away.
The great man needs to find the fun. And time is running out.