John Huggan: Time for Tiger Woods to ditch hangers-on and take wise counsel of mentor O'Meara

Back in the late 1990s; back when Woods was but a lad; back when the day-to-day existence of golf's greatest practitioner was a lot more straightforward than it is now; back when all he had to think about was the game he plays better than anyone ever has; back when he was a single man; back when he was pipe-cleaner thin rather than the overly mean fighting machine he has become, it was O'Meara who put an amiable arm on his shoulder and showed him the ways of the sporting world he would soon enough dominate like no one ever has.

Back then, Tiger lived a simpler life, one centred around the exclusive Isleworth estate near Orlando where both he and his much older buddy had homes. Almost every morning, the young Tiger would pop round to his pal's place for breakfast. Many evenings were spent watching the box on O'Meara's couch. But, most importantly, the unlikely pair would compete every day over at least 18 holes, going at it hard, to the point where both became better players.

"I think he needed a mentor; he needed someone to show him the ropes," says O'Meara. "He has never had a big brother. He needed someone who really wasn't a threat to him, but who could guide him a little bit. He motivated me, too. The kid was full of piss and vinegar. He was fiery. He wanted it. And he wanted to beat me every day. At the age I was at, he was perfect for me. I played and practised more than I ever would have. And that's why, at age 41, a time when I would have least expected it, I won two majors. That happened because of Tiger. He pushed me."

Even today, around a decade later, the lasting remnants of that relatively carefree period of Tiger's life can be found in his putting stroke. All the way from address to his distinctive release of the putterhead through impact, Woods' method continues to bear a close resemblance to that employed by O'Meara during his storied PGA Tour career.

Then there is the Hank Haney factor. The man who has overseen the Woods swing since 2004 is the same coach who, back in 1982, reviewed and rebuilt O'Meara's previously flawed action and saved his career. While there are those who will say that Tiger's dominance today is less than it was back in, say, 2000, that has more to do with the levelling effect of the modern ball and clubs than it does any reduction in the effectiveness of his evolving technique.

Moving forward off the course, however, O'Meara is the key for Tiger. The older man has never been afraid to be critical of his young friend, an especially important characteristic; the last thing Woods needs right now is yet another "yes man".

"I haven't gone to him very often to say I think he got something wrong," says O'Meara, who now competes on the Champions Tour. "But I have, maybe three or four times. I've called him out on things and he has done the same to me.

"Early in his career I saw him misbehaving on the course. Not that he doesn't get pissed off now. But I saw him out there whacking sprinklers and stuff he doesn't need to do. So he toned it down. Now, is he perfect? No. He plays with his anger. And at times it gets the best of him. At Turnberry this year you could see his disgust. He was 'winging' the clubs and stuff. I'd prefer not to see that. But there are guys out there with much more of a temper than Tiger, you just never see them."

In addition to a prospective move to Houston, Woods also needs to "clean house" as soon as possible. Those in his immediate circle, the so-called friends complicit in his shadowy existence over the last few years, must be banished forthwith and forever. He may not have a choice in that matter, of course. Assuming that his marriage survives and wife Elin remains part of his life, it is safe to assume that she will want them gone. Tiger's boorish caddie – he of the "hilarious" on-course farting contests – his management company and his coterie of high school buddies must surely be wondering what the immediate future holds for them. With a bit of luck, these individuals will be the ultimate losers in this whole sad affair.

The bigger picture, of course, is that this tale of serial philandering is nothing new in golf or any other high-profile sport played by young, good-looking athletes. It was ever thus. So it can be taken as given that many superstars of yesteryear – one in particular must be privately thinking, "There but for the Grace of God… " – will be sighing with much relief that their time in the sun came when the press was much less intrusive and mobile phones had yet to be invented.

The last word, however, belongs to O'Meara, in defence of his friend: "I hope everyone all over the world understands that the guy is a gift to the game. Yes, Tiger has flaws – but those are far outweighed by his heart and his determination and the enormous respect he has for competition. He doesn't want to win at all costs; he wants to win the right way. And to do that he will fight and battle as hard as he can."