Tiger Woods Brings More Than Name to World Golf Hall of Fame

The career of the Hall's newest member is well represented with items from his amateur and college playing days to his 15 majors and Ryder Cup appearances.

ST. AUGUSTINE, Fla. — Hello, world, I’m Tiger Woods. Welcome to the World Golf Hall of Fame here in a wooded area off I-95 in North Florida next to a big pointy tower.

Thanks for stopping here at the Hall of Fame (HOF) or as I think of it, my new home.

That’s right, I live here now, or at least my legacy does. It’ll be official Wednesday night when I am inducted into the Hall in front of a packed house. Curiously, it won’t be here at the Hall, it’ll be at the PGA Tour’s new headquarters, jokingly called The Death Star by some players because it looks like Star Wars stuff. Not by me, of course, some other guys.

This induction isn’t all about me. Actually, it is but let’s pretend it isn’t. Tim Finchem the former PGA Tour Commissioner is in the Hall Class of ’22. Hey, nobody ever wrote bigger FedEx Cup checks than Tim. Susie Maxwell Berning is an inductee because she won three U.S. Women’s Opens, which is three more U.S. Opens than Phil Mickelson. (Just kidding, Phil. But it’s true, you know it.) Marion Hollins, the final inductee, was a star amateur player a century ago and helped get two great courses built — Cypress Point and Pasatiempo.

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Don’t be surprised when me and my legacy get in your grille right away when you visit My New House. I chose the items to loan to the HOF that meant the most to me and are items I wanted you, the public, to see (but not touch!) and appreciate.

The first display case you’ll see is my college gear. It features my old Stanford University headcover—white with a cardinal block S. I won the NCAA individual title one year at Stanford. College was a only two-year program for me. I got a Bachelor of Golf degree with a minor in Nikeology.

Also in the case is an old Nike golf shoe, a lot whiter now than when I wore it; a white Nike golf glove; and a white Nike golf ball, now an extinct species. Nike golf balls were always made by Bridgestone but that was a state secret until I let it slip a few years after Nike got out of the golf equipment biz. My bad.

Let’s keep moving, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. We’re going to pass tons of old pictures of guys in neckties swinging mashies and playing between sheep piles. Those were golf’s prehistoric days when clubs were made from stuff that wasn’t titanium. I guess those records should still count, though.

Beyond the Hall’s old-old-timers section is the Bob Hope room. He was a famous comedian in ancient times when you didn’t have to be funny to be a famous comedian. He made some old movies, too, and was pals with every Republican President, which I’m sure was just a coincidence. There’s more stuff from Bob Hope in the Hall than Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player combined. Now that’s funny.

Now, we go upstairs to the Hall’s second level. Here we are at the display cases for the 2022 honorees. We needed three full display cases for my stuff. The other folks got one each. Seems about right.

Somewhere in these cases is a souvenir of the single greatest achievement of my career. The Masters flag from my stunning 2019 win? That was sweet, I’m not gonna lie, but no. My trademark red muscle shirt — time for another Nike moment — that I wore on Sundays to win? Good guess. No. The flag from my 2007 PGA Championship win at Southern Hills, where I survived a case of Woody Austin and 107-degree heat and got painted on that last lip-out putt that would’ve given me a 62 and the low round in any major championship? That’s a great observation. But no.

Stop guessing, I’ll just tell you: There is no greater honor than being on the cover of TV Guide magazine. Once you’re a TV Guide cover, you’re a real celebrity. And I made it four times. The issue on display here is from June in 2001. It’s got a weak-ass drawing of me wearing a green jacket with a headline that says, “Tiger: His shot at making history.”

Correction, I’m pretty sure I had already made serious history, having won four consecutive major championships. Some media fossils called it a Tiger Slam because I didn’t win them in a calendar year but it was clearly a Grand Slam because all four trophies were lined up next to the Play Station in my Isleworth house family room.

I didn’t read that TV Guide story but nobody reads TV Guide stories, anyway, they just check the listings to see what kind of mischief “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” or somebody will get into this week. It’s just my opinion but Bob Hope could take funny lessons from Will Smith.

Anyway, these display cases are such a stash of golf lore. I love the Augusta Chronicle newspaper from Monday after my 2019 Masters win with me in the red shirt—by Nike, as always—with a classic headline: “HEAR HIM ROAR.” Newspaper guys hate putting things in all capital letters, so you know that was bigger than the average W.

That newspaper is on the shelf just beneath my 2020 Zozo Championship trophy, victory No. 82. That tied me with Sam Snead on the all-time victory list. The Zozo trophy has a weird hoop on top, but I think of it as symbolizing Old Sam mouthing, “Oh, no,” after I tied his cherished record. Too bad he wasn’t around at the Masters champions’ dinner the next spring so I could bust his chops. He would’ve said something choice, then told a dirty joke that cracked up the room.

The Zozo piece is next to a tall, artistic cup I received for winning the Bridgestone Invitational for a record eighth time. Normally, I hate reruns but not if it’s me at Firestone, Bay Hill, or Torrey Pines. Or especially me at Augusta.

On another shelf, check out my picture on a Wheaties box. That used to be a cool honor but honestly, who likes Wheaties? They’re old-people food. Like Metamucil or something.

Look closely and you’ll see a more contemporary honor. It’s a crystal ESPN Espy globe. I won it for being voted Best Male Athlete. I wasn’t at that Espys show but Will Ferrell walked onstage, pretended to be me and accepted the trophy. He was hilarious, especially when he thanked imaginary sponsors like Little Debbie Snack Cakes and Ticonderoga pencils.

Not all of my award hardware is fancy. Don’t miss the modest little trophy for my first hole-in-one from Heartwell Golf Park in Long Beach, Calif. Upon further review, the attached golf ball I used was a Top-Flite. Sorry, Nike, it was 1982. And I was only 6.

There are two gold-plated Ping putters from when I won the U.S. Amateur before I became a Scotty Cameron guy. I won three U.S. Junior Am titles in a row and then three more U.S. Ams in a row. I’m not saying they could count as majors--they should totally count as majors, man--but going 36-0 in match play over six years is harder than winning a U.S. Open on a broken leg. I would know. (Phil wouldn’t.)

Tiger Woods has two Ryder Cup displays, including one that features clothing from the 2012 matches. 

Gary Van Sickle

Let’s move on to the Hall’s team room, where I’ve got two small displays all to myself. One has a replica trophy, yardage book cover and a picture from the 1999 Ryder Cup, the only winning Ryder Cup team I played on. I don’t want to make excuses but honestly, the losses were Will Ferrell’s fault. I can’t say more due to a judge’s gag order. The other display has one of my 2012 Ryder Cup shirts and a couple of hats. One is red. Good color.

The Hall’s last stop is the locker room, my favorite museum part. Each Hall of Famer has a locker filled with her or her special items, lined up just like a real locker room. In Tom Watson’s locker, for instance, you’ll see a book about Bruce Edwards, a tribute to his long-time beloved caddie who died after a brave battle with ALS. That was a nice touch by Tom. He’s a fellow Stanford man.

My locker provided the chance to plug some of my sponsors in a very subtle way. My golf bag has a Monster energy drink logo. My towel is imprinted with GolfTV. A box with a dozen Bridgestone balls is on the top shelf. One of woods in the bag has my Frank tiger headcover on it. This Frank doesn’t talk, like in those commercials we did years ago. Good. There’s a glove with a Nike logo. I didn’t forget my own TW brand. I planted a gray TW logo hat in a prime spot in the locker. It was a nice touch by me.

Look, I’m new to the HOF so I’m not sure where everything got put after it was unpacked. Somewhere, there’s a trophy and winner’s check from my first PGA Tour victory, the Las Vegas Invitational; my MVP trophy from Western High School; a pro-am plaque from the Greater Milwaukee Open, which I guarantee is the only GMO item in the Hall; a Sportsman of the Year trophy from Sports Illustrated (which used to be a magazine, I think); a Walker Cup shirt (I bet it doesn’t fit); and more.

Please enjoy the hardware on display in my new house and have a nice visit. Thanks for coming. Oh, and I’d like to say one more important thing:

Nike, Nike, Nike.

Note: The preceding story was not written, approved nor condoned by Tiger Woods in any way. Also, no World Golf Hall of Fame items were harmed during the making of this story. — Van Sickle