Hank's studious eye helps Tiger rediscover the touch

Augusta postscript

The golf world has resembled an ant hill disturbed by an errant three-wood this last week as the "experts" have frantically run around saying, "I told you so" to anybody not yet saying it. A typical conversation:

The golf world has resembled an ant hill disturbed by an errant three-wood this last week as the "experts" have frantically run around saying, "I told you so" to anybody not yet saying it. A typical conversation:

First expert: "I told you Tiger was about to come good again."

Second expert: "No, I told you."

Third expert: "Hell, I told both of you."

This well-worn scene was first farcically enacted in the seconds after that 15-footer threaded its fateful way into the cup on the first extra hole at Augusta last Sunday. And, if we are to be perfectly honest, the stage was the press centre, and the actors were those in the scribbling corps who profess to understand this baffling old game.

Still, as the self-appointed whistle-blowers, nobody was going to blow the whistle on us, were they? And then Hank Haney strolled through the door. "It was the media's perception that things weren't working," he said, as the world No 1's shoulders were being decked in green for the fourth time. "But when Tiger was practising, or playing at home, he felt really good about what he was doing. He kept saying he was close, and that became a joke with you lot. But he knew it was close, he could feel it coming."

Dismiss this deluded fool, the hacks muttered, but that was not an option. Because, although the name might suggest it, Hank Haney is not some raddled country singer pitching up with his barrel of remorse, or even a braced-up agent with a commission to grind. Hank is Tiger's coach. And Hank is the vindicated.

The H-word first came into the view of golf's curtain-twitchers two years ago, and became the landing pad for much of the criticism that winged its way to the Woods camp during those majorless months. Credited, among other things, as the dolt who dared replace the revered Butch Harmon and then put Mona Lisa back on the easel to apply a smile she palpably didn't need, the 49-year-old was originally protected by his pupil, who simply called him "my friend".

In truth, the Dallas-based Texan was much more, as Woods eventually acknowledged at the season-ending Tour Championship last November, when the primary positives of the swing change began to emerge. By then, however, the whisperers were bellowing, "Blame Hank". "That goes with the territory," he said in the aftermath of Tiger's first major in three years. "You can't prepare yourself for the enormity of Tiger Woods and everything that's with him and around him. But I was confident in what I teach, and luckily Tiger just hung on in there."

"I really liked his approach," Woods said, as by way of explaining his faith in a new mentor. "It's different than anything I've come across before. Boy, it's impressive to hit a shot and he automatically knows what it is. It's pretty cool to be able to talk to somebody about that."

And they talk, and talk, and talk... in phone calls that often last hours. "Hank makes me do it, because he wants to see what shots and what tendencies I have," he said. "Sometimes I'll overlook it. I'll just look at the bad shots. Some of the good shots, where do they go? I never really looked at them, because I thought it was a pretty good shot."

But it is not just such dedication to detail that attracted Woods. His great friend Mark O'Meara, the professional who "discovered" Haney at the start of a 24-year relationship, believes his master's dislike of the spotlight was also a big card after the joker routine played out so publicly by Harmon. "Hank likes to stand off to one side," said the two-time major winner.

Indeed, even when the attention is justified, even when it is payback time for all the abuse, all the doubts, Haney still shows he doesn't "need" it. "All the credit goes to his parents," he insisted. "In my opinion, Earl Woods has done the greatest job in coaching Tiger that anyone has in sport. That's why I told Tiger not to refer to me as his coach - I'm just a friend who helps out with his swing. Earl and Tida [his mother] are his coaches, and they've done a remarkable job."

Before you imagine dear old mum rollocking son about putting, Haney is referring specifically to the fight burning so fiercely in Woods that he hasn't missed a cut in more than 140 events, coupled with the unconditional conviction to stick to his beliefs. "I knew when he took those practice shots on the 18th tee that he was committed to what he was working on," Haney said about the first extra hole, where Chris DiMarco had seemingly taken the upper hand after Woods' bogey-bogey finish. "I knew he was going to hit some great shots."

Three to be exact, and what trace of fear had existed was suddenly inconceivable. Not that Haney believes Tiger could possibly conceive of fear. "I have a dog named Chunk," Haney began. "A Bouvier, weighing 100lb, who growls when he senses fear. When people come over I always have to be there to make sure there's no disaster. But when Tiger first came over I heard the door open from another room and thought, 'Oh my God, Tiger's going to be torn apart'. I bolted into the room just as Tiger was saying, 'Hi, Chunk', and patting him on the head. My dog licked Tiger's hand and went back to sleep." His rivals know exactly how Chunk feels.