Features
TIGER WOODS THE MAN AND THE LEGEND
by Vijaya Chandrasoma
I have no pretensions of being a sports writer, but the terrible high speed motor accident that nearly killed Tiger Woods last week saddened me. He was a Superhero who made me, a mediocre golfer, indulge in Walter Mitty type of impossible and fantastic daydreams of playing just one round of golf like he did. A dream as ridiculous as disappearing into a telephone booth and emerging as Superman.
Tiger had emergency surgery “to repair significant damage to his right leg and ankle”. We are thankful he is “awake, responsive and recovering in his hospital room” at Harbor-UCLA Medical Center, 11 miles from the scene of his accident.
The accident occurred at 7 a.m. on Tuesday. Foul play, drugs and alcohol were immediately ruled out. Tiger was perhaps driving too fast on a section of a highway which has a reputation for being accident-prone. I have driven along that section of Hawthorne Boulevard, a monotonous grid of a city highway which transforms, as it reaches the environs of the coastal town of Palos Verdes, into a beautifully undulating scenic parkway leading up rolling hills, then dropping dramatically to the coast of the Pacific Ocean. Like all things enchanting, Hawthorne carries a glint of danger if shown disrespect.
I have no intention to make this story about myself, only an effort to describe my addiction for the game. I started playing when I was 28. I played golf just about every weekend in the 70s, usually both Saturdays and Sundays, fourballs with three close friends, legends in the sports they represented nationally. How did a mediocrity ascend to these exalted sporting circles, you may ask? The only answers I could come up with is that we were close friends and I was more than their equal at the 19th hole. Although they were no slouches themselves.
My participation in the game had dwindled by the time I decided to emigrate to the United States in 1990, but my interest had not. I followed, on TV, the feats of legendary golfers like Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer, Tom Watson, Nick Faldo and many others. In Los Angeles, a distant second during the 90s to the enormous pride I savored in the academic achievements of my children, was the PGA Tour, which provided me some relief from a week of working at the most menial and mind-numbing jobs imaginable. The salt mines in Siberia would have made a significant improvement.
In the early 90s, before Tiger had burst in on the golf scene, I saw a TV flashback of a two-year old Tiger in an on-stage putting contest with Bob Hope, with Jimmy Stewart looking on, in the Mike Douglas Show in 1978. I was hooked!
A little history on the transformation of the game Tiger loved and largely wrought. His favorite golf course was the Augusta National, the annual scene of the first of the year’s four Majors, the Masters.
The co-founders of the Club in 1932 were Bobby Jones and Clifford Roberts. Roberts famously decreed, “As long as I am alive, all the members will be white and all the caddies will be black”. These black caddies were also required to wear white overalls to make them “look smarter”. This despicable tradition persisted till 1983, when players were “allowed” to use white caddies, and the demeaning white overalls ceased to be mandatory.
The first African American to be elected to the Club in 1990 was Ron Townsend, CEO of the giant marketing network Gannet. African American men can take solace in the fact that women were allowed to join the Club only in 2012, the two initial members being former Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice and Darla Moore, a mover and shaker in America’s financial scene.
Membership lists are kept secret by Augusta, but there are currently around 300 members, of whom five or six are black, two white women and Ms Rice, who has the great good fortune to be both black and a woman.
I dwelt on the history of Augusta’s National Course because the Masters was Tiger’s favorite tournament. When he won for the first time in 1997 by a record 12 shots, Jack Nicklaus, who finished a full 29 shots behind Tiger, predicted that “Woods would win more Green Jackets than him (six) and Arnold Palmer (four) combined”.
Tiger was born Eldrick Tont Woods in December 1975. His father, Earl was a college baseball player, an army veteran who served two tours in Vietnam. Earl started playing golf in 1972 at age 42, and became captivated with the game. He claims he was “close to” being a scratch golfer, but like many of us who become better as we get older, he was probably a single handicapper. Earl Woods was Tiger’s father, coach, mentor, his best friend and biggest fan till his death in 2006. When President Clinton saw Tiger running to his father to hug him after he won the 1997 Masters, he called Tiger and said that picture was “Tiger’s best shot of the day”.
As a nine year-old, Tiger made a bold commitment to his father: I am going to be professionally excellent. As his talent unfolded, this proved to be a remarkable understatement. Tiger achieved a dominance in a sport for over a decade which hasn’t been equaled, and will likely never be equaled.
Bradman and Viv Richards, Federer and Nadal, Michael Jordan and LeBron James, Pele and Ronaldo, Usain Bolt and Carl Lewis were Superstars in their sports. But no one had to change the conditions of the games in which they excelled to blunt their talents. They didn’t doctor the pitch at Lords to stop Bradman; they didn’t wet the tracks to slow Bolt down or alter the areas of the basketball courts and soccer grounds to deter Jordan or Pele; they didn’t mow the grass differently at the Center Court in Wimbledon to contain the grace of Federer.
But after Tiger, almost all the best courses in the world had to be “Tigerproofed” to make the game more challenging for Tiger. They added yardage, built more and deeper sandtraps and water hazards, they made the greens more undulating and pin placements more demanding. These changes also made the opposition work harder to keep up with Tiger. The entire game of Golf, the courses and players, the purses and TV ratings, all benefited because of Tiger’s genius.
In two years at Stanford University, Tiger won 10 Collegiate events, ending with the NCAA title. He turned professional in 1996, at the age of 20. Within a year, he had won three PGA tour championships, ending in a record 12-shot win in the 1997 Masters. A year that would be a proud career record for most professionals.
From 1996 through 2009, Tiger won 59 PGA tournaments and 14 Majors. He was the dominant player of the decade, of any decade, who exploded spectator participation, both live and on TV. He also encouraged the younger generation, especially those of the African American community, to take up the game at an earlier age.
The popular joke in those golden days of Woods’ dominance was: When a black man was chased by 150 white men in the 1950s, it was the KKK. Today, it’s the PGA tour!
During those halcyon years, Tiger made the headlines whether he won a tournament or missed the cut. I remember when I got home a little late when Tiger was playing, my son greeted me with the words, perhaps with a hint of sarcasm, “Thaathi, your ‘surrogate son’ just made a birdie!”. When I visited Salem, Oregon for the pre-nuptial celebrations of my son in the April of 2005, I had to leave while the final round of the Masters was in progress to catch my plane to Phoenix. Tiger was in contention. I was on the freeway, when my son excitedly called me, exulting about that long, 90-degree break putt Tiger made on the 16th hole to tie for the lead with Chris DiMarco, and then beat him in a playoff. A putt no golfer will ever forget.
Then, from 2009 to 2012, there was a drought. What happened? Tiger had an acrimonious divorce from his wife in 2006. His multiple infidelities became tabloid fodder for the mainly white base of a game accessible to only the rich. These mainly white golf fans resented the dominance of a black man and reveled in his fall from grace. Tiger was booed at tournaments, reviled by the tabloids, rejected by his sponsors, forced to publicly apologize and to admit that he was seeking rehabilitation for sex addiction. This from a country which boasts the greatest number of sexual partners per capita and the highest divorce rates in the world. A country which has double standards for everyone, especially athletes and politicians, depending on skin color.
Shades of President Obama. Only, Obama did not fall from grace. His impeccable, scandal-free two term presidency infuriated even more the white supremacist supporters of the ignorant, immoral crook who succeeded him.
But, to the great glee of these racists, Tiger did fall. He was publicly and devastatingly shamed when his consensual “crimes” (which evoked secret admiration from most of us) became sanctimonious and hypocritical cannon fodder for the most sexually promiscuous nation in the world.
Hypocrisy which now rules the American political scene.
Because of public shaming of his “scandal” and health problems (Tiger has had back and knee surgeries approaching double digits), Tiger has won one Major (his epic Masters comeback in 2019) since 2008. Just one in over a decade, having won 14 in the decade immediately preceding! It’s not as if he didn’t have back and leg surgeries from 1997 to 2008. And golf is not a game which becomes unplayable with age. After all, Jack Nicklaus was 46 when he won his last Major at Augusta in 1986. Tom Watson was nearly 60 when he lost the British Open in a playoff in 2009.
The ridicule heaped on Tiger by the media and the white fans, compounded by health problems, adversely affected his performance and almost certainly robbed him from achieving his stated ambition of beating Nicklaus’ record of winning 18 Majors. Though he does hold the record, jointly with Sam Snead, of 82 PGA Tour victories, nine more than Nicklaus.
Tiger is 45 now. He will never again achieve the domination he enjoyed at the turn of the century. There are outstanding talents, like Rory McIlroy, Brooks Koepka and Jordon Spieth lurking in the wings, adding a depth of talent the game has probably never seen before. But no one will dominate the game as Tiger did for over a decade.
Tiger is the doting father of two beautiful children, 13-year-old daughter Sam, a soccer player, and son Charlie, 11, an up and coming golfer. Sam’s name is really Sam, not short for anything. Tiger describes why he picked that name for his first-born: “My father had always called me Sam from the day I was born. … I would ask him, ‘Why don’t you ever call me Tiger?’ He says, ‘Well, you look more like a Sam’”. Charlie was named after Charlie Sifford, the first African American to play on the PGA tour.
Anyone who saw Tiger win the US Open at Torrey Pines in 2008, battling the excruciating pain of a torn Achilles tendon, will have no doubts about his resilience. He is responding well to his surgery after last Tuesday’s car accident. I have no doubt he will be back, if not for the Masters in April, then sooner rather than later. Whatever awaits him in the future, Tiger’s legend is for the ages.
President Obama said it best: “Sending my prayers to Tiger Woods and his family tonight – here’s to a speedy recovery for the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time) of golf. If we’ve learned anything over the years, IT’S TO NEVER COUNT TIGER OUT.
Features
Combining local resources,traditional knowledge and science to build a food-secure Sri Lanka
World Food Day 2026: Innovating today for a better food future
by Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara
What will be on the Sri Lankan dinner table ten years from now? Will our children be able to get nutritious food at a price their families can afford? Will farmers be able to grow enough despite changing weather and rising costs? And how much of the food we produce will actually reach the consumer, instead of being lost or wasted along the way?
These questions can’t wait. A farmer faces unpredictable weather. A family faces rising food costs. Fruit goes unsold after a good harvest. Some children do not get enough nutrition. The future of food is tied to the future of Sri Lanka itself.
World Food Day 2026 is a chance to look beyond the immediate problems and ask whether we can build a food system that feeds our people well, gives farmers better opportunities, protects the environment and makes better use of what we already have. The answer can be yes, but we will have to think differently.
We are not starting from zero. Sri Lanka has diverse crops, fisheries, traditional food knowledge, indigenous varieties, research institutions, universities and a young generation able to create new solutions. What we need is to bring these together and act. Producing more will not secure our food future on its own. It will depend on how intelligently we produce, process, preserve, distribute and consume food.
Making more of what we already have
Innovation does not always mean inventing something new. Often it means finding better uses for the resources we have.
Sri Lanka grows traditional rice varieties, kurakkan, green gram, cowpea, jackfruit, breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato, coconut and palmyrah. All of them have great potential for modern, nutritious, value-added foods. Jackfruit and breadfruit can be made into flour and other convenient products. Traditional rice varieties can go into new foods that suit changing consumer needs. Palmyrah, with its strong cultural heritage, can create new income through better processing, packaging, quality assurance and market development.
The aim is to connect our traditional food knowledge with modern consumer needs and technology, while keeping our food heritage.
Stop wasting the food we produce
Reducing food loss and waste should be a major priority. Seasonal fruits such as mango, banana, papaya and pineapple can be lost in large quantities when production exceeds demand or when storage, transport and processing facilities are inadequate. With suitable technology, these fruits can become dried products, pulps, powders, beverages and other shelf-stable foods.
Agricultural and fisheries by-products are resources too. They could be turned into food ingredients, animal feed, bio-based products and other useful materials, which would move us toward a more circular food economy.
Technology alone is not enough. We need stronger local processing facilities, cold storage, efficient transport, collection centres and market information systems, especially close to where food is produced. Cutting food loss raises the value of what our farmers and fishers already produce.
Nutrition and food safety come first
Food security means more than having enough food. People also need food that is safe and nutritious.
Sri Lanka can develop affordable, nutritious foods from local pulses, grains, vegetables, fruits and fish. Children and other vulnerable groups should get particular attention. Schoolchildren in particular deserve a focus: safe, nutritious, locally sourced products for school feeding programs would support child nutrition, local farmers and domestic food industries at the same time.
Food safety must stay at the centre of food innovation. Good hygiene, quality control, laboratory testing, traceability and appropriate food safety systems are what make new products safe as well as attractive and nutritious.
A food system that can cope with climate change
Climate change is already affecting agricultural production, water availability, crop yields and food prices. We need food systems that can handle changing conditions. That means climate-resilient crops, efficient water use, soil and water conservation, better storage and resource-efficient food processing.
Traditional knowledge matters here. Generations of Sri Lankan farmers have developed practices suited to local climates and ecosystems. Combining that experience with modern science can give us solutions that fit local conditions and are sustainable. Technology alone will not build the future of food. Science, experience and local knowledge together can.
Give young people a bigger role
Sri Lanka’s universities have an important part to play in shaping our food future. Young people should be encouraged to identify real problems in the food system and work on practical solutions in areas such as food waste, sustainable packaging, nutrition, food safety, modernising traditional foods and digital technologies.
A good research project should not always end as a research paper. Where appropriate, research should be supported to move on to products, technologies, enterprises and community solutions. That needs stronger partnerships between universities and industry, along with mentoring, research funding, business support and market connections. If young researchers and entrepreneurs can turn their ideas into viable food innovations, both consumers and producers will benefit.
A pathway designed for Sri Lanka
We do not need to copy food-system models from other countries. We can build a pathway that suits our own resources, culture and needs. It would bring together local resources, traditional knowledge, scientific research, appropriate technology and entrepreneurship, with farmers, fishers, universities, research institutions, food industries, entrepreneurs and policymakers working side by side.
The goal goes beyond selling raw materials. We need to create more value, reduce waste, improve nutrition, generate jobs and strengthen rural livelihoods. This matters especially for small and medium-scale food enterprises, which can drive local economic development when they get the right technical, financial and market support.
The choices we make today
The food future will not create itself. It will be shaped by what we grow, what we research, what we process, what we consume and what we choose not to waste.
So, the question for World Food Day 2026 is this: what can we do today so that every Sri Lankan has safe, nutritious, affordable and sustainable food tomorrow?
The answers are already around us, in our farms, fisheries, food businesses, universities, laboratories and communities. We have the resources, the traditional knowledge, the scientific expertise and talented young people. What we need now is to connect them and act.
A better food future begins with the choices we make today.
Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara
Senior Lecturer, Department of Biosystems Technology, Faculty of Technology, University of Ruhuna
Features
20th Anniversary of Digampathana blast – the day Sri Lanka Navy cried
By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan
The Digampathana suicide truck attack on 16th October 2006 remains the deadliest single strike in Sri Lanka Navy history, leaving scars that time cannot erase.
It was a seemingly ordinary Monday morning on 16 October 2006, but the calm of that day would soon be shattered in a way none of us could have imagined. As the Commandant of the Naval and Maritime Academy and Flag Officer Commanding Naval Fleet at Trincomalee, I was aware that a number of my cadets were travelling that morning, part of a convoy of fifteen buses carrying naval personnel from Trincomalee, Colombo, and other bases, heading toward Dambulla to rendezvous with another group. The convoy also included trucks and escort vehicles, a routine movement planned and coordinated with the army to ensure the roads were clear. The morning started quietly. Some personnel greeted friends, handed over their weapons, or strolled to a nearby tea shop. It all seemed so ordinary—too ordinary for what would come next.

Sri Lanka Navy sunk LTTE Ships carrying arms, ammunition and warlike materials thousand miles away from Sri Lanka in Indian Ocean in September and October 2007.
By late morning, both convoys had reached the small ground at Digampathana, near the Sigiriya junction, and personnel mingled briefly, unaware that a carefully orchestrated act of terror was waiting. Then, suddenly, an empty half-truck veered directly into the convoy. It exploded with a ferocity I can still recall as if it were yesterday. Nuts, bolts, and high explosives tore through the air. Pandemonium erupted instantly. I later learned that 107 of our naval personnel were killed on the spot and another 153 critically injured. The scene was indescribable—bodies scattered, vehicles mangled, personal effects strewn across the ground. I remember later hearing that the head of the suicide bomber was recovered more than 100 meters away from the blast, a grim testament to the sheer force of the explosion.
I was in my office at the Naval and Maritime Academy when my mobile phone rang. A young midshipman from the 21st intake called, his voice trembling: “Sir, there was a huge explosion at the convoy point! Many are dead … my batch mate Wijesundara is among them.” I immediately jumped into my jeep with my escort Chief Petty Officer and driver and rushed to Digampathana, relying on every ounce of my driving skill to reach the scene. The journey, which usually took little more than an hour, felt endless that day, each passing mile weighed down by dread.
When I arrived, I was confronted with a sight that no training can prepare you for. The injured were being rushed to Dambulla Hospital, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, improvising in ways that saved lives despite the overwhelming chaos. I went back to the site after visiting the hospital. The remains of our naval personnel were scattered across the ground, and someone had begun collecting weapons and protective gear. I immediately contacted Surgeon Rear Admiral Nico Jayasekara and received his instructions: collect all body parts in separate bags and transport them to the Trincomalee Naval Hospital mortuary. This gruesome work had to be done with care and dignity, and it filled the icebox in my vehicle. Through DNA testing initiated by Rear Admiral Nico, we were able to identify every naval personnel lost that day, bringing some closure to grieving families.
The Navy Commander at the time, Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda, was devastated. I had worked closely with him and knew how deeply he cared for his men. He ensured that the fallen were honoured with full ceremonial naval funerals at Welisara Naval Base, attended by families and comrades. Sixty-seven funerals were conducted in a single day—a number that still haunts me.
The Digampathana attack remains the largest single loss of naval life in our history. It was a day of sorrow, but also a day that reinforced our resolve. The tragedy galvanized the Navy to target the LTTE Sea Tiger wing with renewed determination and reshaped our maritime operations forever. Every time I think of that day, I remember not just the lives lost, but the courage, professionalism, and dedication of those who survived, those who treated the injured, and those who ensured the fallen were honored properly. May the souls of our naval hero’s rest in peace, their sacrifice guiding us and inspiring generations of naval personnel to come.
Features
‘Murder at Whitby Abbey’
Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 24
I was intrigued by the title of a book I found in a book drop at the condominium of a friend, Murder at Whitby Abbey, and I brought it home with me though I will not be able to return it in the near future. It was described on the cover page as ‘a standout in the crowded medieval mystery field’, though I fear I do not know of other books in this field, apart from the Cadfael series, which I have dealt with earlier.
The book, by Cassandra Clark, is set during the reign of Richard II and has as a backdrop his precarious position, which led to his being replaced, and murdered, by his cousin Henry, who reigned as Henry IV. It is a gloomy book, the action taking place in the twelve days of Christmas leading up to the Epiphany. And the gloom is pervasive, even though this is supposed to be a time of festivity, with mummers performing, and many of those in the guest house where the heroine stays going to town to enjoy themselves, with much drinking and much music, which also fills the guesthouse.
The heroine Hildegarde is a nun, sent to try to acquire a relic being sold by Whitby Abbey, though this was also a penance set by the Abbot of the monastery that governed her abbess because she had had sex with a man. Soon after she and her companions reach the Abbey set high on a cliff, she finds that there are other bidders, and soon suspects that the hierarchy, not perhaps the Abbot who seems a weakling, but his rapacious bursar, is determined to make money, and not above creating false relics to sell to several aspirants.
After Hildegarde and her Cistercian companions – Whitby is a Benedictine Foundation – two monks, Gregory and Egbert, and a young priest Mark, reach the abbey, they find that Aelwyn, a monk they had met on their way to the guesthouse had died. This was in the apple store, and they realize, when they find the surplices of novices stuffed into the air vents, that he had been left to suffocate in the overwhelming scent of apples.
The Cistercians are asked to look into the death, perhaps because they are likely to get no cooperation from the Abbey folk, but perhaps because those in charge are keen to know what happened. And the infirmarer, an old monk, suggests Hildegarde talk to a man called Edred who worked for the bursar, and had been a friend of Aelwyn’s. But Edred too is killed, before he can keep an appointment he had made with Hildegarde, drowned in a pool near the farmhouse of the Abbey.
Meanwhile tensions arise between the fisherfolk and the abbey for the bursar wants to charge them for using the beach that technically belongs to the abbey to dry their fish and their nets. This leads to physical battles, when the guards used by the abbey, under the command it seems of the bursar whose determination to make money is not resisted by the abbot and the prior, try to storm the area where the fishermen live.
Hildegard finds out more about what had happened through two youngsters, one of whom Torold is the son of Aelwyn by a woman who worked as a prostitute for a cartel, and with whom Mark fell in love. The other works on the farm and had seen Edred meet someone near the pool, after which that someone left the place by himself. And the boy had also found in the pool a sort of dagger with the seal of the abbey.
He and his dog, and Torold who follows her, rescue Hildegarde from a man at arms who has waylaid her and tries to rape her earlier. Escaping into the abbey she was nearly been raped then by the bursar, but she managed to escape, in the process setting fire to him and the muniments room, which led, when he was rescued, to the discovery of a box with the money he said had been stolen, blame being cast on both Aelwyn and Edred.
Matters come to a head when the fisherfolk try to storm the abbey, being resisted by the men at arms stationed on the towers. But then Hildegarde realizes that behind the murders was the bursar’s clerk, whom she pursued to the cathedral. There is great drama then as she escapes from him when he tries to kill her, and then from the man at arms who had tried to both rape and kill her, but they both fall from the scaffolding she had climbed, the latter coming from a tower where he had been stationed.
Both of them think they run the rapacity of the abbey, the latter claiming to work for the nobles opposed to Richard, who is presented throughout the book as devoted to his subjects, not to power or money. But though the villains die, the bursar continues, having got over the hysteria the fire had caused and his acknowledgment then of guilt – and though the abbot and the prior seem less vicious, whether they will be able to assert themselves is questionable.
Before the climax, when the others in the guesthouse were leaving, Hildegarde found that two of them were in possession of the relic, for which they seem to have paid well. Hildegarde herself had made a derisory offer, but before she leaves the abbot gives her the relic, perhaps in gratitude for what she and her fellow Cistercians had discovered, the abbey having made as much money as it needed and more from the gullible other buyers.
Mark’s inamorata is saved from the stews because she moves in with Edred’s widow whom the bursar had thrown out of the rooms he occupied when her husband was found dead. Hildegarde had paid for lodgings, in a house run by the man who ran the brothels, but he had a kindly side and was going to finance them to make nets for the fishermen.
So, the Cistercians set off for their home as swiftly as they can to get there on the day of the Epiphany, having stopped en route to pray for King Richard whose birthday it was.
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