Lasting memories from the 2008 sports year

There's an easy way to gauge how important, or remarkable, or special a day or event was.

A year passes, five years, even a decade — and you still remember many of the occasion's details. For instance, I'll never forget learning of the 9/11 attacks from a television in my history teacher's classroom. Most Americans, I'm sure, maintain a lucid memory of that morning now seven-plus years later.

That, of course, was a tragic day. During 2008, however, there were many memorable days — for good reasons — in the sports world. While the economy turned to slush, athletes and teams put together some of the most amazing performances I've seen in my relatively short 25 years on earth.

No, '08 wasn't a normal year in a lot of ways that are transparent to all of us. To me, now just a day into the new 365-day cycle, what stands out is how vividly I remember the year's greatest moments — not just what happened on the television screen in front of me, but what was going on around me.

For instance...

Sunday, Feb. 3: I'm sitting on the couch facing our 37-inch TV, my cousin J-bo on the adjacent couch to my left. The Giants have just shocked the sports world, upsetting the mighty, seemingly indestructible Patriots 17-14. And J-bo is giving it to me, letting me know in a clear, voluble tone that he picked New York to win while I made the safe pick. Ah, whatever. It was worth it. Best. Super Bowl. Ever?

Monday, April 7: Guess what? J-bo is right once again. This time, my friend Cosey is in town from Michigan to watch the national title game pitting Kansas and Memphis. And as Kansas brings the ball up the court trailing by three with the clock winding down (5 ... 4 ... 3), J-bo exclaims that the Jayhawks will make a 3-pointer to knot the game. And, sure enough, we watch in amazement as Mario Chalmers hits the shot of his life. It is the second championship game I've watched in 2008 — and both were the best of their kinds I've ever watched.

Sunday, June 15: I'm sitting in the living room of the waterfront community where the Lloyd Family Reunion has just begun. Family members whom I haven't seen for at least three years are streaming in, but my eyes are trained on the small TV about 10 feet in front of me. And I'm not the only one watching. Other Lloyds watch in awe as Tiger Woods calmly, daringly, dramatically sinks about a 15-foot putt to send the U.S. Open to a playoff. I'll always remember how the ball curled around the right edge of the cup before deciding to fall in. It couldn't have been better television for NBC.

Monday, July 7: This time, it's just me. I'm lounging on my aunt and uncle's couch this afternoon, absolutely captured by what I'm watching. One minute, Roger Federer hits the nastiest backhand up the line one can hit to stave off a match point. The next moment, every Federer groundstroke is chased down by the ubiquitous Rafael Nadal. It's the Wimbledon final, and it's the best tennis match — by far — I've ever seen. I wasn't able to watch it live the previous day because I'd been on a hike-gone-bad for the weekend, but I had my aunt DVR it. Then, Sunday afternoon and night, I had to avoid using my laptop or watching our crib's TV. It was brutal not being able to see the Yankees-Red Sox game, but I couldn't risk noticing the result of the match on ESPN's bottom line. I needed the element of surprise to truly enjoy it.

That, to state the obvious, is exactly what I did for about four solid hours on that couch. I won't forget how Federer played a great final three sets, but somehow hit possibly his worst shot of the day to end the match: He plunked an easy forehand into the net. And Nadal went into the stands, with darkness enveloping Centre Court, to celebrate his first Wimbledon title.

***I was living the outdoorsy, no-TV life in beautiful New Hampshire during the entire Olympics, so I didn't see any of Michael Phelps' eight gold-medal performances or Usain Bolt's three record-breaking runs. But, no doubt, those moments will not be forgotten for as long as those records stand (and that should be a very, very long time). One thing that won't skip my mind is viewing the amazing Sports Illustrated pictures of Phelps' victory by the slightest of margins in the 100-meter butterfly. And I'll always remember that the win was by one hundredth of a second.

Sunday, Dec. 29: Sadly, not all the memorable moments were positive. I'm at a table with my friend Bobby in the middle of Ann Arbor's Buffalo Wild Wings, an almost-empty glass in front of me and hundreds of football fans of all colors around me. Directly to my left stands a kid sports a Bears Brian Urlacher jersey. But at the moment, there is an assortment of cheers and groans. The clock has just wound down on the first 0-16 season in NFL history. And, get this, I got to witness the Lions' ultimate achievement of ineptitude from the state they call home. Only another 0-16 season could make the memory of this afternoon vague.

It's been that kind of year in sports. One full of moments that will be talked about for many years to come. Who knows? The Giants slaying of the Patriots has been called by many the greatest Super Bowl ever. Woods' performance on basically one leg was hailed as the most remarkable, brave display in golf history. And several tennis experts immediately claimed Nadal's five-set victory over Federer the sport's best match on that kind of stage — ever.

I saw most of the year's best moments. And I don't plan on forgetting where I was and what those around me and I were doing when those television screens portrayed such historical scenes.

Now 2009 has an almost-impossible act to follow.

Pro golf sans Tiger is almost irrelevant

ON GOLF

As riveting as the last two days of the 2008 U.S. Open were, including the 19-hole Monday playoff, the rest of the season will be bland, boring, a snoozer.

One reason: the absence of Tiger Woods.

For the first time since Woods joined the tour, commissioner Tim Finchem will discover just how lame the PGA Tour is when the world's best player is at home every week of the season. And there's nothing he can do about it. He needs a great player to capture the public's attention, but that's not in his hands.

Phil Mickelson? Despite his risk-taking, his sporadic play is no fun to watch.

Sergio Garcia? He's also way too inconsistent, even without the painful preparation routine before each shot.

Of course there remain plenty of capable players on tour, and the final two majors of the season could contain their share of back-nine drama, but Woods is in a league of his own when it comes to talent and the ability to play in any condition. Name one other player who would have played last weekend's tournament with one good leg -- yeah, there aren't any.

As a casual golf fan, I'll probably still tune into the final-day coverage of the British Open and PGA Championship, but without Woods I'll have no rooting interest. I'll simply watch if a good, exciting finish is in store.

Woods is almost like the Yankees. Either you're rooting for him or against him -- and regardless of your stance, you're admiring the amazing shots he pulls off. I was at my family reunion Sunday, sitting in a room full of Lloyd's as Woods snuck in his tying putt on No. 18.

Earlier in the day, I had bet my uncle Chuck $5 that Woods would win the tournament, so I gave a slight fist pump when the putt dropped. Other family members cheered, while some "we want 45-year-old Rocco Mediate to win" folks let out groans. It was one of those great family moments shared in front of the TV screen.

I guarantee you hardly anyone would have been watching if Woods wasn't in contention -- that's how popular he is among the general public; how else can good television ratings for Monday afternoon's back-and-forth battle with Mediate be explained? Put another golfer in Woods' place, and much more office work would have gotten done on that day.

The name "Tiger Woods" sells itself.

Now, the tour has to figure out a way to attract attention and TV viewers while Woods rests at home. Finchem is billing the coming months as an opportunity for young players to build name-recognition among golf fans, and I'm sure that all tour players see the rest of the '08 schedule as a great chance to win a few tournaments.

Which is all gravy for the pros, who will continue to play from the same tee boxes and for the same large purses -- and not have to deal with a man wearing red on Sunday afternoons.

But Finchem better hope that Woods returns healthy and with his game intact come 2009, because the rest of this season will prove just how irrelevant the tour is to the casual golf fan when Tiger isn't striding toward the green, determined to make that tournament-winning putt.

Especially during an Olympics/election year.

Tiger's one little flaw

ON GOLF

I had this back-and-forth with the voice inside my head the other day:

Me: So, does Tiger Woods have any weaknesses?

Voice: How about his driving? Isn't it too inaccurate?

Me: Um, no. It's actually pretty good.

Voice: Oh, his putting. He doesn't have the touch of guys like "Lefty."

Me: Are you kidding me? Did you not see the 25-footer he dropped the other week to win that tournament?

Voice: Right, my bad (thinking) ... Well, Tiger sometimes swears on national TV?

Me: OK, enough. Argument's over. Tiger is perfect.

Actually, he isn't. You see, when he has to come from behind to win a major on the tournament's final day, Tiger Woods isn't very good.

I know, I know. I'm being picky. But it's true — Woods has never won one of the four majors when trailing entering Sunday. And it's not like he hasn't had plenty of opportunities. It seems like every year he's in one or two majors where he's just a few strokes back heading into Sunday.

Of course, many other players have never won a major despite being behind by just a few strokes heading into several Sundays. But Tiger Woods isn't just another guy; he needs to be held to a different standard.

It's not that Woods bombs on Sundays, either. He simply doesn't do enough to make up whatever gap exists between him and the leader(s). Take Sunday's round at the Masters:

Woods didn't play a terrible 18. For the most part, he hit the ball well, finding most fairways and reaching most greens in regulation. He didn't make any gigantic blunders, and after his birdie putt dropped on No. 18, he walked away with an even-par 72.

It really wasn't a bad round, but it seemed that way. That's because Woods began the day six strokes back of leader Trevor Immelman. The South African didn't play amazingly well Sunday and committed a normally unacceptable error when he plopped his tee shot on the par-3 16th into the water.

Immelman finished with a mediocre 3-over-par 75, but it was more than enough to defeat second-place Woods by three strokes.

Now, put Woods in Immelman's shoes. If the world's No. 1 player had began the day at 11 under par and shot his 72, he would have won by six strokes. People right now would be talking about his chances of winning all four majors. It would have been a typically steely final-round performance by the world's best athlete.

Nobody is better than Woods at holding onto a final-day lead. He is far too consistent and far too confident to let an advantage slip away. When he sees the finish line, he doesn't look in his rear-view mirror.

But when Woods begins the final 18 holes of a major behind, consistency isn't enough. Pars usually will not get him a Green Jacket. And the putts that usually fall for him suddenly fall short, suddenly rim out.

Such was the case Sunday, when Woods had tons of opportunities to put some serious pressure on Immelman. I'll skip the front nine and go right to the back. After a Tiger-esque birdie from around 493 feet on No. 11 moved him to 5 under, Woods started walking with a swagger. You could see that he believed he would win.

And sure enough, Woods made two superb shots on the par-5 13th to give himself a short putt for birdie. At the time, Immelman faced a long par putt on the 11th. At that moment, I was thinking what every other CBS viewer must have thought: "A two-shot swing for Tiger. Watch out, Trevor!"

However, the improbable happened. I can't remember which putt was shown first, but Tiger missed his 6- or 7-footer and Immelman knocked in what had to have been at least a 15-footer. Just like that, the lead stayed at five strokes.

The tournament was far from over, however. But Woods missed another short put on 14, this time giving him a bogey, and missed yet another short birdie putt on 16. At the time, the roll-by on the par 3 didn't seem to matter, but when Immelman made his only huge error on the same hole, I realized just how much Woods had blown the tournament.

Which isn't to take anything away from Immelman. He did what he had to do. Playing in gusty conditions, he made huge putt after huge putt and didn't give the competition a reason to believe he was slipping. He never let a bogey turn into two bogeys.

But Woods could have won Sunday — just like there are numerous other majors he could have come back to steal. Heck, he could have eclipsed Jack Nicklaus' record of 18 by now. But for some reason, Tiger is simply normal — just good, not great — when he isn't at the top of the leader board.

You could see the frustration on his face Sunday. With each missed putt, Woods' jaw muscles tightened. There was no swearing on camera or club-banging, but Woods was clearly upset with himself. He was obviously pressing, and when Woods does that, he loses the touch with his putter.

That's the game of golf for you. If you want to overcome a six-stroke deficit — or even a three-stroke deficit — you better make putts. You can hit the ball extremely well. You can reach all the greens in regulation. But if you don't roll in at least some of your putts, you're nothing special.

On Sunday at Augusta, Tiger Woods was normal. A good golfer who contended for a major championship but didn't stand out from his competitors. He hit some long drives. He made a long putt. He went home with a nice, fat paycheck.

Woods' round again proved just how difficult the game of golf is and how tough it is to win consistently against dozens of fellow competitors. It made Woods' streak of wins earlier this year look even more impressive, but it also made all the prognosticators who predicted Woods would win the Grand Slam look, well, silly.

Even Woods said a week ago that he didn't think winning all four majors in the same calendar year would be that difficult. He was wrong. As good as Woods is — yes, it's safe to call him the greatest of all time — he's never going to take the four big ones in the same year.

That would likely require Woods leading after three rounds in each of the tournaments, and I'm not going to attempt to figure out those odds.

One of these days, Woods will do it. He'll make enough putts to come back to win a major on a Sunday. It will happen. It's not like his confidence is lacking.

But for now, if you're searching for a FOTW (Flaw of Tiger Woods), look no further than what transpired Sunday at Augusta.

The world's greatest player had all the opportunities to make the rest of the golf world bow at his feet, but he didn't convert.

There's a tiny, little flaw for ya.