JOHNS CREEK, Ga. - Tiger Woods isn't there yet. And now, after a positively demoralizing day, at least to his dwindling group of fans if not to Tiger himself, you wonder whether he'll ever be there again.

Whether his comeback, his perceived renaissance, his proclaimed return to greatness, is nothing more than good thoughts destroyed by bad swings.

On Thursday, Woods shot his worst opening round ever in a major tournament, this one the 93rd PGA Championship at Atlanta Athletic Club.

He shot a 7-over-par 77 - after going 3 under for his first five holes. He was eight shots worse than a club pro from Ohio, Bob Sowards. He was 14 shots worse than first-day leader Steve Stricker.

He hit balls into water hazards and bunkers and virtually everywhere else. He made three double bogeys. He made us for the first time begin to doubt he'll ever again be the Tiger of old, even though through the years we have learned never to doubt him.

His explanations for this chaos of a golf game are not without merit. Tiger's personal life has been a mess, certainly because of his own behavior. Tiger has changed coaches. Tiger has a new swing. Tiger's injuries prevented him from practicing.

All true, but also true is that Woods has no faith in his game. He's like Steve Sax, the second baseman who mysteriously lost the ability to throw a ball to first and finally exited baseball. It was all mental with Sax, and maybe it's all mental with Woods.

The swagger and the arrogance, which were almost palpable, are missing. Sure, it's only his second tournament after weeks away, and nobody believed he would win. Other than Tiger, who when asked his expectations for this week, answered: "A 'W.' Do you want me to elaborate? A nice 'W.' "

He's not going to have any sort of "W." What he's going to have is a reminder of how difficult it is to regain what he has lost, especially confidence.

He talked before the tournament like a golfer satisfied with his progress. He played Thursdsay like a golfer groping for answers.

"I'm not down,'' said Woods after swatting his way through a bit of ecstasy and an abundance of agony. "I'm really angry right now."

Angry, he said, because after playing mechanically on the opening holes - golf by numbers, if you will - he decided to freewheel it, tried to be the old Tiger Woods. As pointed out, there may never be an old Tiger Woods except in our memories.

"I thought I was playing well enough,'' said Woods. "I could just go out there and let it go, see the shot, hit the shot. I'm not at that point yet. My motor pattern is getting there, and I start fighting it and I couldn't get it back. Obviously, it's tough."

No one ever said golf was easy, even when Tiger was in full dominion over the game. He'd smack one into the trees or knock one into a trap. Ah, but then Woods would pull off wonderful recoveries, saving pars, making birdies. Or if he was in full control, as at Pebble Beach in the 2000 U.S. Open, he'd turn a tournament into a runaway.

Right now, he's being run over. The game owns him. The sixth hole Thursday, his 15th since he started on the back nine, is a 425-yard par-4. Woods drove into a fairway bunker. That shouldn't have been more than a trifle, except his next shot plopped into a pond in front of the green. A double bogey. That's the way 14-handicappers do it.

The way Tiger did it Thursday was to ruin any possibilities.

"Three under early,'' he reviewed, "and every shot I hit to that point was through mechanical thoughts. I put the club in a certain position, and I'm feeling good. Let's just let it go. It cost me the whole round. ... The same motor patterns, a long list. That's one of the reasons it takes so long to make improvements, make changes."

And why did someone who won more than 70 tournaments, who won 14 majors, who was No. 1 in the rankings month after month, feel obligated to change? To go from Butch Harmon as his teacher to Hank Haney and now to Sean Foley?

And how much of Tiger's trouble is attributable to his self-professed transgressions, the embarrassment, the breakup of his marriage, the desertion of numerous sponsors and endorsements? Even the most resolute and dedicated athlete has to be affected by the loss of family and prestige.

It has been an awful two years, of mental pain and, with knee and Achilles' injuries, physical pain. The idea was it all had to change - at least he's healthy - and Tiger's brilliance on the course would resume. One must reassess.

"I just thought,'' Woods said about the 77, "this is a major, and you peak for these events. Once you get to a major championship, you just let it fly, let it go. I did, and it cost me."

That isn't the only thing that cost him.