JIM LITKE Failure to make cut may be sign of bumps ahead

Failure is never a welcome teacher, just a necessary one. And the lesson it taught Tiger Woods on a steamy Friday at the U.S. Open is going to take some time to learn.
Missing the cut in a major won't even register on the range of emotions Woods has experienced over the last six weeks, ever since his father, Earl, succumbed in his long battle with cancer. The only reason he mentioned the two events in the same breath is because someone asked whether his first loss made this disappointment easier to take.
"What's transpired off the golf course, I don't know if it gives you a different type of perspective. But I don't care if you had what transpired in my life of recent or not," Woods said. "Poor execution is never going to feel very good."
Tiger's parallel to Nicklaushas an eerie coincidence
In this instance, as in just about every other in Woods' golfing career, there was a link to Jack Nicklaus. Nicklaus became his benchmark when a young Tiger taped a list of Jack's accomplishments to his bedroom wall, and Woods had made exactly as many consecutive cuts at the majors -- 39 -- as Nicklaus had before a second round of 76 sent him home for the weekend. But in this instance, the link was even stronger.
In an eerie coincidence, Nicklaus, too, was 30 when his father, Charley, died in February 1970. But he was also stuck in the longest major drought of his career, 10 straight without a win, and the loss of his father prompted Nicklaus to take a long look at where his own life was headed.
"He loved watching me play golf, and I realized that I hadn't given my best effort the last two or three years of his life," Nicklaus recalled recently. "I was playing sloppy golf. I didn't have any goals. I thought I let him down. I realized if he were here, he would have kicked me in the rear end."
Advice shouldn't be thesame for both golfers
In that same interview, Nicklaus was asked for his take on what Woods was going through.
"You can't say he needs to be kicked in the rear end," he said. "Everybody reacts differently to different things. It would be a pure guess what his reaction would be. The U.S. Open ends on Father's Day, and maybe he's focused on that's what he wants to do."
That, no doubt, was exactly what Woods wanted to do. Whether he was in any shape to do it is another matter.
We're not questioning the nine-week layoff between tournaments, nor Woods' preparation for Winged Foot, his work ethic, effort or focus. His body of work renders those questions moot.
What can't be answered, even by Woods himself so soon after the passing of the man who taught him almost everything, is how the loss will affect him. Until now, he's had only as many distractions as he wanted and Woods has done wondrous things with his unfettered time.
Instincts and upbringinghave made him what he is
Woods has done that because of his talent, the nurturing cocoon Earl wove around him, and a desire to win that defies measurement -- but also because he could pour every ounce of his being into that one endeavor. In one big moment after another, we've seen Woods roll in putts he had no right to make, escape from corners of a golf course where even the architect never set foot, and change the way the game is played.
Whether Woods was able to play golf over the last two days with that singular focus is a question only he can answer. Looking on from a distance, the guess here is not.
Woods was his brilliant self at some junctures, but uncharacteristically impatient at others, and his expression barely changed throughout. There were none of the familiar flashes of emotion -- slamming his putter down on the bag, damning a duck-hooked drive as it disappeared into the trees -- and only a few brief smiles. Bad golf explained most of that melancholy, but likely not all.
What lies ahead willhave to be sorted out
With his return to a more regular playing schedule, the mechanics of his swing will take care of themselves. But everything else about Woods' game will only get harder from here on out. Golf was easy when it was the only thing on his plate, but now Woods is married, talking about a family, and grieving for a father who taught him not just how to play, but how to play as if nothing else in the wide world around him mattered.
Time and maturity will help Woods sort out those priorities on his own, but here, too, he can look to Nicklaus for inspiration.
Nicklaus came out on tour in 1961 already married and the first of his five kids was born that fall. That means he won majors with a growing family at home tugging at his heartstrings, that he kept winning -- including 11 of his 18 majors -- after burying his father, and won some more while trying to grow the Golden Bear brand into a commercial empire. It also means his career traversed more than a few peaks and valleys, even in his prime.
Woods may just be approaching his prime, but the sailing will never be as smooth as it was once.
XJim Litke is a national sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at jlitkeap.org