FOOTBALL is the world's most popular sport primarily because it is easy to play.

A scrunched up newspaper can be a ball, slippers a goal, a hallway a pitch and the rules are simple. Predictably footballers are worshipped widely and posters of Pele, Maradona, Platini, Cryuff and Messi are pasted on universal walls from Accra to Aceh.

But every now and then a sportsperson arrives from a lesser sport, one perhaps not even played by us, who holds our imagination for a while. Jordan with a basketball, Armstrong on a cycle, Sampras with a racket, Schumacher in a car, Ali in the ring.

But Tiger Woods is the strangest of this pack. Not the greatest because he never faced the moral dilemmas Ali did, nor is he as vocal as him, nor as athletically gifted.

But strange because I never believed a stationary sportsperson, wearing dull slacks, with someone carrying his equipment, playing a game that's unaffordable to most, could become the most celebrated sportsman (right now) in the world.

Sure Tiger's name helps (it's powerful, recognisable), his passport matters (the muscular US media is in awe of him), his colour is relevant (being the first black champion in a white sport), but mostly he has two remarkable qualities.

He has a charisma (only on the golf course) that could light up a small city and he has a capacity for extraordinariness.

Like Jordan flying to the hoop with the clock winding down, Ali finding victory against Frazier and Foreman, Maradona turning a game with a single pass, he has a similar flair for the dramatic.

We saw that on Sunday with his five-shot comeback. The only reason he can't be a greater winner than them is because no one is trying to physically stop him during his act.

Woods' popularity is evident from his effect. Golf is slow, almost lethargic at times, and each shot takes only a second or two to execute before a five-minute wait until the next one, but he makes us watch him.

Sometimes it feels as if it is not so much golf that people watch, but Tiger.

It's why the final round TV ratings in the US on Sunday when he won in Bay Hill were higher than the British Open and PGA Championships last year, tournaments he missed because of injury.

Woods' appeal is his consistency, his dependability. He forces himself to maintain a higher standard week after week, and this is evident when you compare him to Phil Mickelson and Vijay Singh.

Woods has played 239 events on the PGA Tour, Phil 390, Vijay 410. Woods has made 94.1 per cent of cuts, Phil 82.3, Vijay 89.5; Woods has won 27.6 per cent of tournaments entered, Phil 9.2, Vijay 8.2. And Woods' percentage of top 10 finishes is 63.6, Phil's is 36.1 and Vijay's is 40.2.

The difference is substantial. It is the difference between great and genius.