On being asked to characterise his raison d'etre, Tiger Woods captured the essence of competitive sport: "Winning is what really drives me." It is the motivation which seems certain to make him the greatest golfer in the history of the game and an all-time sporting hero.

Even now, there is a temptation to confer the crown and sceptre to acknowledge his achievement of becoming, at 24, the youngest player to win the game's four professional major championships. But Woods' dominance has to meet the test of time through the accumulation of the game's major prizes, as other greats have done, from Harry Vardon to Jack Nicklaus. But, for the moment, we can salute him in the certain knowledge that he has no peer.

He has brought the game to a thrilling, new level, through natural athleticism and a wonderfully orthodox technique. Not only is his swing immensely powerful: it has the simplicity to ensure consistency.

With stunning speed, his legs, hips and shoulders drive powerfully through the ball, taking the clubhead through on the inside for a shallow angle of attack which delivers a long, high flight. Unlike Nicklaus, he has achieved remarkable mastery of the short irons, of the priceless chips and pitches which are bread-and-butter shots to the tournament professional.

He owes much to the coaching skills of the Las Vegas-based Butch Harmon, who took him under his wing in 1993 and masterminded a major overhaul of the player's swing two years ago, primarily with a view to achieving greater distance control.

"Tiger's like a sponge," said the coach. "He likes to soak in knowledge. He's always curious and is the hardest worker I've ever seen."

So there was rich irony in the fact that Harmon had also taken to guiding the fortunes of Darren Clarke, when the Tyroneman caused the major upset of beating him in the final of the Andersen Consulting World Matchplay Championship at La Costa last February.

But the player's greatest asset is something neither Harmon nor any other guru could teach: Woods sinks putts. He sinks an awful lot of putts. In fact it is doubtful if any player in recent history has sunk as many 10- and 12-footers as we saw in last month's US Open triumph at Pebble Beach and at St Andrews over the weekend.

To achieve such consistency with the blade - a consistency, incidentally, which eluded even Ben Hogan - it is necessary to have a flawless method and sensitive touch. But an even greater asset is the ability to read greens. And Byron Nelson believes nobody in his experience has ever read greens better than Woods.

Crucially, all of these attributes are combined with what Hollywood describes as the X-factor, otherwise known as star quality. Indefinable but unmistakable, it allows Woods to turn tournament golf into compelling theatre. And in the process, he has raised the pay-packets of his fellow professionals out of all recognition.

Tim Finchem, commissioner of the USPGA Tour, suggested that Woods had "the playing ability of Nicklaus and the magnetism of (Arnold) Palmer". But his influence becomes even more pronounced in minority communities, where he is viewed as a shining successor to such sporting icons as Jesse Owens, Jackie Robinson, Arthur Ashe, Muhammad Ali and Michael Jordan.

As one observer said: "He has taken golf out of the country club and changed its colour code."

Another official said recently: "We on the tour don't keep attendance figures. We never have. But it is obvious to anyone following tournament golf that Tiger has sent attendances through the roof."

His influence is unique. Each time he tees it up in the US television figures are boosted by an average of 16 per cent. It has enabled golf to challenge what is referred to as the Holy Trinity of baseball, basketball and American football.

Mark O'Meara, who has become something of an older brother to the world number one, expressed the view: "If you were building the complete golfer, you'd build Tiger Woods."

In a way, this was the assignment the player's father set for himself when his only son was born in Cypress, 35 miles south of Los Angeles, on December 30th, 1975.

Earl Woods was a lieutenant-colonel in the US army who married Kultida, a native of Thailand. Christened Eldrick, the youngster was nicknamed Tiger after a Vietnamese soldier and friend of Earl's, named Vuong Dang Phong. And young Eldrick became so attached to the name that he formally adopted it on his 21st birthday.

His development as a brilliant player through amateur ranks is well documented, notably his achievements of winning three successive US Junior and three successive US Amateur titles, often playing against opponents far older and more experienced. Then, in August 1996, came the inevitable move to professional ranks.

"That was a pretty dramatic change for me," he said, recalling the transition from college student at Stanford University to world-wide celebrity in six months. The spotlight became all the more intense when he won twice in his first eight tour events.

"No one can ever prepare you for that," he went on. "And I guess I didn't handle it well at times. At other times I was just kind of learning as I was going. There is no class for that, nothing anyone can ever say can help you along. You have to go through it yourself.

"You become someone else's property. There are people yelling, screaming, clamouring. I like to think they understand what I'm going through, but there are fans who have never played golf. Some of them can come out and throw a few beers back with their buddies and be loud, boisterous, say things they shouldn't. But usually, the vibes are right."

The manner in which Woods has handled his celebrity has been remarkable. While becoming a player of unprecedented skills, he has developed into an extremely pleasant young man, almost invariably mannerly, even when confronted by decidedly testing situations.

And all the while, he has been widening the gap between himself and would-be rivals, to the extent that the vast majority of them are mentally adjusted to the idea of playing for second place, even before they head for the first tee.

As Tom Watson, one of the game's most admirable competitors, observed: "Tiger has raised the bar so high that it's at a level which only he can clear."