Remember this commercial? 

Remember how thrilled we were as sports fans when this prodigy burst onto the scene? That sense of awe at how any golfer could hit a ball such distances with perfect control? The admiration that a young black man could be the most able athlete in the world with a golf club in his hands despite some country clubs continuing to deny him membership? 

Isn't the world of golf, and sport in general, poorer without the ongoing presence of an individual who has achieved sporting immortality? 

Watching Woods at his prime was never about the competition; it was about being there to catch the freakish moment - the 2005 Masters chip-in for example - that only he ever seemed to execute. Woods was a phenomenon who transcended his discipline and elevated his sport beyond the white middle-class slacks-wearers into a compelling, athletic spectacle. 

I like my champions to be the best, or to have beaten the best. 

In recent years, undermined by Woods' injuries and infidelities there have been an extraordinary number of first-time and solitary major championship winners. Ten of the last 11 majors have been won by first-timers. Way more than the average of one in two in major golf's modern history. 

They should reflect a champion's skills under pressure, their mental toughness and the timing of preparation that only the best players regularly achieve. Woods' absence of form has created a vacuum but rather than Phil Mickelson, Lee Westwood or anyone else who may aspire to greatness filling it, it has been filled by The Competition, The Also-Rans and The One-Time-Wonders. 

By comparison, in the era of Jack Nicklaus' domination; Gary Player, Lee Trevino, Arnold Palmer or Tom Watson - all legends of the game - would take advantage of any slip-ups by the Golden Bear. 

The stats are telling: 

Woods wins on average 23 per cent of majors he enters. When he fails, just 26 per cent of those championships are won by players with previous major wins, rising to 36 per cent when accounting for those first-timers backing up with future majors. 

Nicklaus won 22 per cent of the majors he entered at the peak of his career (for argument's sake and for a comparable timescale to Tiger, I set this at 1962-1980). However, when he failed, 37 per cent of tournaments were taken by existing major champions, rising to 53 per cent when accounting for those first-timers repeating the feat. 

In other words, in the 1960s and 1970s, you knew that if the Golden Bear didn't take home the silverware another champion of the game probably would. In recent years, important titles, like the No.1 ranking, have been open to all comers. 

And don't think anybody hasn't noticed. 

Keegan Bradley's playoff win at the US PGA drew a 14 per cent lower television rating than the 2010 final round. 

Rory McIlroy's eight-stroke win at the U.S. Open saw ratings down 26 per cent year on year. 

The drop in TV ratings between Tiger winning the 2007 PGA Championship and Padraig Harrington winning in 2008 - 55 per cent. 

Clearly there are myriad issues at play, not least the increased levels of participation and entry-points for professionals in the modern era compared to 40-50 years ago. That said, the public appetite for champions is clearly not being satisfied. 

Golf is under threat from Tiger's slump as much because the competition is simply not there to cover for him when he's away. Rather than exhilarating feats of brilliance taking home jugs and jackets, recent majors have witnessed astonishing blowouts from third-round leaders and golf's equivalent of last-man-standing. 

I do not condone Tiger's off-course behaviour. As far as I'm concerned he deserves all the public humiliation he has received for his actions and the lie he sold to his fans. But his greatness is incomparable and seemingly irreplaceable. The sooner he is back in the groove, the better.