It was on the 13th tee, the one at the front end of the hole known as Goldeneye Duck, that Tiger Woods chose to
answer nature’s call early Monday afternoon. So he excused himself from the company he’d been keeping — that would have been fellow golfers Camilo Villegas, Mike Weir and Notah Begay III — and ducked into a conveniently placed portable restroom sitting nearby in the tall grass. You know, one of those blue, one-person, plastic contraptions (complete with the slamming door) generally reserved for ham-and-eggers and not for royalty. It should have been no big deal, of course, but the respite did lead to a revelation for one of those thousands of pilgrims who’d traveled to the Atunyote Golf Club to gape at the great Woods, himself. “See” a guy said to his wife. “Tiger has to go to the john like everybody else. I guess that proves he’s human, after all.” Top links Based on the day’s proceedings, Tiger’s trip to the Port-O-Potty was pretty close to the only tangible evidence of his mortality. Simply, the oohs were many, the aahs were too numerous to count and the heads, shaking in admiration, were everywhere. Tiger Woods, the most accomplished athlete on Earth, had graced the Oneida Indian Nation to play in one of those hokey 18-hole skins games in the , and most of the folks in the throng of 3,000 or so — and that included Jim Boeheim, the Syracuse University basketball coach who was packing an umbrella he wouldn’t need to open — could not believe their good fortune.
And never mind that each of them had entered the magnificent grounds clutching an entry ticket worth at least $330 in an economy hardly conducive to such a tariff.