By Bob Harig
Special to ESPN Golf Online
Thursday, August 24

LOUISVILLE, Ky. -- He was Tiger before most fans knew such a person existed, a phenom who won everything in sight. Bob May dominated the junior golf scene in Southern California, once the youngest player to qualify for a PGA Tour event.

	Bob May shot three consecutive 66s and never flinched.

His game never progressed at anywhere near the same rate as Tiger Woods' -- whose has? -- and he became one of the countless, faceless golfers who grinded in obscurity.

So there he was Sunday at Valhalla Golf Club, the pro from nowhere, battling the best player in the world, the man who will seemingly smash golf's most storied records.

May matched Woods shot for shot in a stirring back-nine duel at the PGA Championship, a battle not believed possible, nearly stealing a major championship Woods seemed destined to win.

That he came up a shot short in a three-hole playoff is no shame. But it should be to the handful of golfers who claim to be among the best in the world.

Where were Ernie Els, Davis Love III, Colin Montgomerie and Phil Mickelson? David Duval was not here due to injury, but you wonder if he wouldn't have been back in the pack, too.

Finally, somebody went toe to toe with Tiger, looked him in the eye, and did not blink.

"I think I have a big heart," May said. "People weren't expecting me to do what I did. I think I proved to them that I can play golf."

Where is the heart of those other players? Els, who has two U.S. Open titles, owns mansions in three countries. Mickelson, still seeking a major, flies his own plane. Duval snowboards in Idaho when he's not home in Jacksonville. Monty whines when there are whispers in the gallery.

Perhaps some of the best players in the world are too comfortable to go after Tiger.

All we wanted was some drama, and it took a balding journeyman from Las Vegas who has barely played on his home tour to provide it.

May is a 31-year-old rookie still searching for his first PGA Tour victory. The $540,000 he earned Sunday is nearly as much money as he had made in his entire PGA Tour career.

It would have been no surprise had May shot 75 and faded into the Kentucky bluegrass. It was his first PGA Championship and he has nowhere near the experience of an Els or a Love or a Mickelson or a Duval.

Call it a fluke if you wish, but May went 66-66-66 over the final three rounds. He matched 31s with Tiger on the back nine. He holed a tough downhill 18-foot birdie putt on the 18th hole that would have won the tournament had Woods not made his own testy birdie.

He managed to scare Tiger unlike anyone else.

While others continually praise Woods, May decided to give it his best and not worry about the outcome. He played without fear, something missing from Woods' usual followers.

You wonder if the would-be challengers relish the idea of getting in Woods' face and trying to do something about his dominance.

The game could use a rival for Woods, someone to stand up to him from time to time. All the greats had a foil. Snead had Hogan. Palmer had Player and Nicklaus, who had Watson, Trevino and Miller, among others.

Watson came along at a time when Nicklaus was at the top of his game, already considered golf's greatest. By 1975, when Watson won his first major title at the British Open, Nicklaus had already won 13, including that year's Masters.

That didn't stop Watson from challenging the Golden Bear. He won the Masters in 1977, where Nicklaus finished second. He won the British Open the same year, dueling Nicklaus for 36 holes. Those were huge wins in a young player's career. Most of his eight majors came during Nicklaus' heyday.

"I always felt that Jack was the best player, but I felt that I could beat him," Watson said. "The players today have to feel the same way if they are going to beat Tiger Woods."

No question, it is demoralizing for other players to see Woods win The Masters by 12 shots and the U.S. Open by 15 and the British Open by eight. Those were extraordinary performances.

But they are also unusual. Golf is not a game that lends itself to such greatness. Even the best players of all time would find a flaw in their games, endure stretches of poor putting or ball-striking.

Woods had that kind of weekend. He made mistakes. He left open the door.

And all but Bob May were too meek to step in.

Bob Harig, who covers golf for the St. Petersburg Times, writes a column every Tuesday for ESPN Golf Online.