One final item today. Besides my wife and this newspaper, there is one other great passion in my life.

That would be golf. For someone who’s so firmly in the grip of golf’s enchanting elixir, I don’t play all that much. And when I do, I struggle. Such is the game. It will drive you crazy. The truth is I just don’t have the time to devote to the game that I would like.

So now I probably watch more golf on TV than I actually play.

Which brings me to Tiger Woods. And what he is doing.

I will go out on a limb here and tell you that Woods is the single most mesmerizing athlete of our times. At least he is for me. On a Sunday afternoon when he is playing, I don’t leave the TV.

All Woods has done is win the last five PGA tournaments he’s entered, dating back to last summer.

And Sunday he did so in thrilling fashion, draining a 25-foot putt on the 18th hole to cut the heart out of Brad Bryant, who had matched him shot for shot for much of the afternoon. Bryant no doubt was looking for a sudden death playoff. Woods had other ideas. He was just looking for suddent death. Bryant’s.

It was Woods’ 64th PGA Tour victory, tying him for No. 3 on the all-time list with the legendary Ben Hogan.

I play golf, and not very well. I’m not sure what game Woods is playing.

But I am in awe.

I have forever been of the opinion that Muhammad Ali is the greatest athlete ever. I may soon be making room on that perch for one Eldrick “Tiger” Woods.

He’s got the right nickname. He certainly is not human. At least he doesn’t play like one.