It's a bit like finding out that he was slightly tipsy throughout each of his 14 major victories; it makes you wonder how many he'd have won sober.

Indeed, his remarks beg the question: If we've only seen Tiger operating at 80% of his physical capability, what could he do at 100%? For everybody else it is a question that doesn't bear thinking about.

If his knee was sore ten years ago it hardly showed, and it was only at Torrey Pines that it became apparent his game was suffering. So what exactly is Woods on about?

So much of Tiger Woods' strength lies in his power of intimidation. Never was this more on show than at Torrey Pines. Runner up Rocco Mediate was like a star struck groupie after 72 holes, gushing praise and fawning admiration for Tiger.

It was all "A guy like me versus a guy like him" rhetoric and it never seemed like Mediate gave himself the slightest chance of winning.

What followed was the announcement that Woods would be out for the rest of the year, withdrawing himself from two majors, The Ryder Cup and the race for the PGA Tour Money List crown. Nobody said as much, but you can bet there were some muffled cheers in the dressing room when that news broke.

Suddenly, the Open Championship and The PGA Championship were significantly more accessible to everybody else. There were rumours that Woods would never be the same player again. For players whose major haul would be double or better were it not for Woods the future looked enticing.

In many ways the psychological spell that Woods held over his competitors - that which mesmerized Mediate into an awestruck submission in California - had been broken.

Until now with his claim that his best has yet to come

Woods' recent statement may well have been designed to maintain his looming presence even from the hospital bed.

The only thing more frightening than his record is the implication that his operation will bring back a Tiger that is even hungrier and more ferocious than ever before