IT is really good that Tiger Woods has rejoined the human race.

Look what’s happening to golf this year.

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The playing field has been leveled, if not become virtually a no man’s land.

With Woods finally embodying what imperfection is, Mr. Nobodies have, seemingly and all too sudden, become a dime a dozen.

They keep sprouting out like mushrooms after proverbial thunderstorms.

The cloak of anonymity has been consistently raised, revealing winners with star potential that were, only a while back, mere smugly-faced strugglers, if not unsightly stragglers, crookedly cocooned into the depths of ignominy.

Of the four golf majors staged every year, only the 2010 Masters went to Mr. Somebody: Phil Mickelson.

All the rest—the other majors winners, I mean—were as unknown as Obama when they decided to make a go of it. The spectacle that accompanied their feats resembled that of a meteor crashing into the Mojave Desert before a throng with mouths agape and jaws dropped beyond description.

Simply awesome.

Almost unbelievable.

One by one, they stunned. Even themselves, for that matter.

Who was Graeme McDowell?

He won the US Open in June. From Northern Ireland.

Who was Louie Oisthuizen?

He won the British Open in July. From South Africa.

And, yes, who was Martin Kaymer?

He just won the PGA Championship. Yesterday. From Germany.

Where were the Americans?

Moping with Woods, their leader who is proving to be more consistent now on his self-destruction streak in golf than repairing his image since revelations of his serial wife-cheating ways broke out in November?

Bubba Watson, a lefty like Phil from Florida, seemed set to end all of this eeriness when he birdied the first hole of his three-hole playoff yesterday with Kaymer.

But after the German rebounded with a second-hole birdie to tie going to third (18th), Watson blew it all when he saw the water on his second shot.

Wrong decision for him to go for the green?

Whatever, I feel for Bubba.

If Bubba’s with Tiger now, drowning their sorrows away with gin, well and good.

They, sure believe in the saying, “Misery loves company.”