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Much ado about 'I do'

Raymond Floyd has been a lot of colorful things during his 40-year golf career - big-time PGA Tour winner and high-stakes hustler, playboy/bar owner and backer of an all-female topless band called the Ladybirds during his hell-raising bachelor days.

But Floyd, now 61, is also his generation's best rebuke to one of the silly suggestions now trailing Tiger Woods: this speculative theory that falling in love and getting engaged is what robbed Woods of his invincibility, dulled his competitive edge because he secretly yearns to be home taking out the garbage or mowing the lawn of his Orlando mansion in a haze of domestic bliss.

It's ridiculous, all right, even if - granted - it was Woods' father, Earl, who first planted the Marriage = Career Death storyline, telling a reporter,"Let's face it, a wife can sometimes be a deterrent to a good game of golf." Now, as we're endlessly reminded, Woods isn't engaged to just anybody. He's engaged to one Elin Nordegren, a statuesque blonde who has been variously described in print as "the former Swedish nanny," a "professional model" and, in the words of Sports Illustrated's Rick Reilly, Woods' "zipper-melting" fiancée.

To all of that, Floyd's hagiographers can still cackle HA!

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Did you know Floyd's once-upon-a-time stunts included playing a tournament round in Texas, hopping a plane to Vegas for a night of drinking and gambling, then returning for his tee time the next day having not slept a wink? Golf was more freewheeling in the '60s, when Floyd started, and Floyd was one of its unabashed characters. He saw no need to explain or apologize for his off-course antics, and became known on the course for The Stare, that rapacious, zeroed-in look he gets when he's stalking a title.

When asked once what color those eyes were, Floyd smirked and said, "Red."

Perhaps it's no wonder, then, that Floyd seemed amused yesterday at the notion that Woods' engagement has transformed him into some conflicted young man who isn't sure if he wants to resume terrorizing tournament fields or help with the wedding invitations.

Floyd was hustling toward the clubhouse after his practice round for this week's U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills yesterday but he stopped in his tracks and laughed when asked if Woods strikes him as some Samson shorn of his locks.

"That seems like a loaded story to me - I don't quite know where you're goin' right there," Floyd said. "People are always going to have their opinions, but . . . I mean . . . "

He laughed again.

For one thing, Floyd doesn't necessarily agree with the talk that Woods is even in a slump. But there's also this: Floyd knows he won 17 of his 22 PGA titles after he married Maria Fraietta, the former Miami fashion school owner who has been his wife for 30 years.

Among Floyd's 17 post-marriage titles were all four of Floyd's majors - his 1976 Masters victory, both of his PGA Championships in 1969 and '82, and his epic 1986 U.S. Open victory at Shinnecock Hills, the same course that's hosting this week's Open.

"So don't blame the girl," Maria Floyd joked yesterday.

"Yeah, marriage affected my golf; it made it better," Floyd said. "After getting married I had support - a teammate. I mean, I wasn't the only one that directed my life after settling down and having children. I matured. Marriage matures you. I'd say that's a normal process, not something abnormal."

So until someone proves Swedish nannies are made of Kryptonite, Floyd will remain among those who think neither maturity nor impending marriage explains Woods' 0-for-7 streak in his last seven major championships. No one short of God Himself could have kept up that streak of seven wins in 11 majors that Woods put together a few years ago. On top of that, the rest of the PGA Tour has simply gotten better. Technological advances in equipment have robbed Woods of the Bunyanesque distance edge and just-as-important psychological advantage he once enjoyed over his peers.

Floyd says "golf is a different game" now than it was even a few years ago, let alone back in '86, when he became the oldest U.S. Open winner ever, holding off eight other heavyweights here at Shinnecock Hills who were tied for the lead on Sunday.

"I played with two young men today that were hitting irons and fairway woods over 300 yards," Floyd said. "[Compared] to 1986, the kids are hitting three and four clubs less into the greens than I was."

All of which conspired to suggest Woods' chances of winning here haven't decreased because he's besotted. Woods' love life, in a different way than Floyd's, just reminds us of something his golf results obscured for awhile: They're human.