Tiger braces to face a different kind of scrutiny

We've watched Tiger Woods since he putted out on "The Mike Douglas Show" in 1978.

We watched him grow up in public, lacquering on layers of muscle and a shell of athletic arrogance.

We watched him conquer the world's hardest game and the game's hardest courses.

We watched him hug his father after singlehandedly desegregating the champions' locker room at Augusta National, and we watched him hug his new bride, Elin Nordegren, when they looked like the world's luckiest couple.

We watched him win with a heavy heart, after the death of his father, and on an imploded knee, at the 2008 U.S. Open.

We've watched him pump his fist and dry his eyes, scream in triumph and snap in disgust, and yet we've never seen him the way we will see him this week.

This week, at the Masters, Tiger Woods becomes the axis of America's obsession with sport, celebrity and scandal.

For perhaps the first time in his career, Woods will stand over a putt and people will wonder what he is thinking.

On Monday, Woods will hold a news conference in the quaint interview room at Augusta National, and a silver-maned member of the exclusive golf club might ask the gathered reporters to refrain from questions about Woods' personal life.

No such genteel requests will change the story of the week, even for those of us who have no interest in Woods' life outside the ropes.

When Woods tees off on Thursday, he will become the center of a spectacle unlike any other in the history of American sport, because of who Tiger Woods is, and what he and his sport represented.

He is the world's biggest sporting celebrity and represents a game that prides itself on a self-enforced code of ethics, and he is embroiled in scandal seemingly more suited to the singer in a '70s hair band, or a Chicago politician.

Because of Woods, Augusta National this week will become the nexus of Golf Digest and TMZ, of Sports Illustrated and US Weekly, of those who obsess about Woods' putter and those whose interests are more prurient.

Count me among the many who will be fascinated by Woods' performance under emotional duress. Count me among the few who has no interest in his transgressions.

We have become a strange society, one in which pornography and organized religion have become two of our most successful businesses.

Woods allows sports fans and gossips to at once revel in his problems and in their own piety.

Here's all I want to know about Woods at this point: Can a competitor known for being impervious to pressure handle this form of scrutiny?

Woods has provided several highlights of my sportswriting career. I stood in the gloaming at Augusta National in 2005 after Woods stormed back to win thanks to that improbable chip shot on 16 and a sudden-death putt, and heard Woods say, "This win is not for me, it's for my dad. It's been a difficult year, he's not doing very well. He made the trek to Augusta, but he was unable to come out and enjoy this."

Woods began to cry, and said: "This is for Dad. Every year I've been lucky enough to win this tournament, my dad has been there to give me a hug. I can't wait to get back to the house and give him a big bear hug."

At Torrey Pines in 2008, I walked alongside Woods as he limped on his shattered knee, tying Rocco Mediate with that meandering putt on the crusty green at 18, and beating Mediate in a Monday playoff.

Woods seemed superhuman that week.

There are those among us who enjoy seeing high achievers like Woods humbled.