Now that the storm around Tiger Woods is slowly abating - and 'slowly' in this sense is a relative term; it's been only two days since a new paramour has emerged - it's worth looking ahead to the time Tiger does return to the golf course. To do what he does best. Or maybe now that should be second best.

Tournament golf will be the last thing on his mind as he hunkers down in his Jupiter Island mansion wondering how the squeaky clean and virtuous reputation he had carefully cultivated over the past decade - with the help of sundry spivs and spin doctors - could be so comprehensively trashed in the space of a fortnight.

But early next year when the gun goes off in the second week of January for the season-opening Mercedes Benz Championship in Hawaii, the question on many lips will be: when will Tiger be back? And the speculation will reach fever pitch until that time he pulls on a pair of his Nike spikes, steps out of the clubhouse and runs the gauntlet of gawkers, gawpers, gossips, gazers and even one or two golf fans.

He is used to attracting the bulk of any tournament's gallery; that happens each time he tees up. But, in the wake of hydrant-gate, and the dozen or so vamps that have been spurted out in the ensuing geyser, it is difficult to imagine the sort of pandemonium that will erupt when Woods walks on to the first tee of a PGA Tour event in 2010. It will be absolute bedlam.

And it will take all his famed powers of concentration - the mental strength honed by his late father, Earl - for him not to hear the sniggers, the one-liners and the heckling from the milling throng.

From the time Woods won the 1997 US Masters by an astonishing 12 strokes, it has been the widely considered view that it was only a matter of time before he overtook Jack Nicklaus' record of 18 major championship victories.

In that first round at Augusta, Woods was paired with defending champion Nick Faldo who gave him the customary Faldo cold shoulder. Woods, aged 21, was intimidated - to start with. The prodigy fired a four-over-par 40 on the front nine, before regaining his composure to shoot a six-under 30 on the back nine for a brave 70. That baptism of fire over, he was well on the way to winning his first major.

And, sure enough, the predictions of glory have proved to be spot on. Woods has been racking the majors up at the rate of at least one a year, so his tally now stands at 14.

But in light of recent extraordinary events, the question is begged: will the total remain on 14 for good? Will the revelations of adultery with cocktail waitresses, nightclub hostesses and soft-porn stars cause him such trauma, embarrassment and heartache that he will return as only half the golfer?

Because now the aura is gone and the lustre tarnished. This modern deity with almost superhuman athletic powers has been revealed to be as mortal and fallible as you or me, or even John Daly. How low has Woods sunk? Even Daly, after arriving in Sydney last week, was offering him marital advice during a press conference. You'd have got juicy odds on that eye-popping role-reversal a month ago.

Tiger's jezebel count is 11 - and rising. One suspects that it will reach the magic number of 18 a lot more quickly than Tiger's major championship count. And that fall from grace is a sad thing for not just Woods' wife, family and friends, but sport in general.