A tale of two gods

THEY were not born great; nor did they have greatness thrust upon them: they achieved greatness. Then they let it slip.
But while one has regained it to scale an even loftier pantheon, the other is a lost and wounded shadow of his former self.
Roger Federer, 35, and Tiger Woods, 41, once had a lot in common. Same height, same weight, same imperious domination of their sport. Both have also had years in the wilderness, but only one has found a way out.
This week should have seen one following the other onto the world stage: Federer had just won Wimbledon for a record eighth time and the British Open teed off yesterday – alas without the world No. 1,005.
When golf's latest rankings were announced on Monday, there were gasps at Woods' new low. Like there were when we saw that police picture of his DUI in May, and what followed his clipping of a fire hydrant in 2009. Tiger used to do shock and awe; now it's shock and horror.
Nope, he never does anything by halves. Outside the top 1,000 is non-league level in football, hacker level in golf. He wouldn't qualify for most tournaments but for the fact that he's won them all many times over.
When Woods was great, he binged on as many as three majors in a year, 14 in all and the last (US Open in 2008) with a broken leg. It wasn't a question of whether he would break Jack Nicklaus's record of 18 career majors, but whether he would double it. Now we wonder if he'll ever beat par again.
On the other side of the ropes he was just as profligate. Las Vegas gambling dens took him for a huge divot and going out of bounds in his marriage became an addiction.
Federer, although whiter than white off the court, has also known the flipside of life. A four and a half year grand slam title drought saw him beaten by journeymen and told to quit before the embarrassing defeats tarnished his image.
Federer, however, knew he still had greatness in him, and never lost the plot. Defeats – even embarrassing ones – didn't break him. Unlike Woods, neither his mind nor his body let him down.
The two are apples and pears, and right now one is rotten. But if there is any lesson in this comparison of gods, it is about all-too-human frailty – physical and psychological. At risk of being an armchair Freud, it may even go back to childhood: Federer had one, Woods didn't.
The Swiss didn't take up tennis till he was six, played other sports and credits badminton for his hand-eye co-ordination. He loved football, had doting parents and an elder sister.
Woods, as we know, was forced into golf from the cradle by an obsessed Green Beret father who split with his mother. The Tiger cub was an only child with no friends.
He grew up with a siege mentality to dominate and intimidate, and the likes of Ernie Els and Colin Montgomery have admitted that when they saw Tiger's name on the start list, they settled for second place.
It's hard to believe now, but Federer, whose every mannerism seems to come out of Corinth, threw tantrums in junior tennis and was deemed "unsuitable" for national service. But even that seems more normal than his American counterpart.
With few mates and interests off the fairway, it is easy to see how Tiger fell prey to temptation once his biggest influence – his father – died. He has admitted to being bored, plays computer games until dawn, and we know the rest.
Being a more rounded human being is not the only reason Federer has been able to last the pace: he's also looked after his body where Woods drove his too hard.
Where Federer's strokes are works of art, Woods' swing – even in his pomp – was a thing of violence that wrecked spine and knee – and all to gain an extra yard of distance.
Federer's serve is not the fastest but is rated among the most difficult to return. He never seems to hurry yet gets to everything he goes for. But unlike that other physique-wrecker, Rafa Nadal, he doesn't go for everything.
Not immune to a bad patch or a niggle, he takes off when he feels he needs to and had a six-month break after losing at last year's Wimbledon. It has led to a golden autumn of the kind Woods can only dream about.
Tiger has not been the same since that accident in 2009. It was only a minor prang but had unimaginable consequences – he lost his marriage to stunning Swedish blonde Elin, his form and his aura.
He plummeted down the rankings to a lowly 58th. Well, it seemed lowly after he'd been No.1 since they used hickory shafts – 683 weeks.
But Woods' career did not end there if it has ended at all. Many forget that he came back to win a few lesser tournaments and regained the top spot in 2011. The Tiger was back but without the roar.
Still, it looked as if four more majors was possible. Top US golf writer Rick Reilly estimated that he would have another 10 years playing at the highest level in which to do it. Federer? He gave him a couple.
What Reilly didn't know was the state of Woods' health. A whole series of back operations has left him in constant pain and blighted his game.
Nicklaus's 18 now looks unattainable and even a twilight on the senior tour is far from guaranteed. And where you can't see Woods breaking 70 again, you wouldn't put it past Federer to conjure up another grand slam.
It is a salutary tale. They both had an aura but only Federer retains his. Where he still has a forehand worthy of Michelangelo, Woods now has a body like Michael Jackson.