I gazed teary-eyed at a god who walks among us mere mortals, his hair patchy like an old dog's coat, and his glow more refulgent than ever because he was shown, so dramatically, to be human: flawed like the rest of us.
I like this Tiger better than the pre-scandal, pre-bad back version.
He seems more humble, shaped by life's harsh vagaries and better for the experience.
But, as he showed so viscerally on Monday by winning his fifth Masters and 15th major, he is still capable of being the best of the best, and not merely a much lesser version of the golfer he was; he can still create magic like no other.
He wielded his clubs on Monday and, hey presto, I was transported back in time, to when my greatest-ever sports pleasure was watching him win majors.
I missed that pleasure in the 11 years he had failed to do so - unable to find anything that adequately replaced it, and, perhaps, resigned to that remaining the case.
But then he sank his putt on his 72nd hole at the Augusta National Golf Club in Georgia.
He raised his arms in triumph as the throng went wild, and I was once again high on Tiger in the most intense way.
Outside Augusta National, some of God's warriors protested his presence, convinced, like Israel Folau, that their message is righteous. They hold the Old Testament to their bosom, and don't mind the blood it smears on them.
Outside the clubhouse, a line of golfers - most of whom were no doubt Tiger-inspired as children to strive for their own slice of greatness - waited to congratulate him, after the story of perhaps the greatest sports comeback in history was relayed globally by the same technology that was used to cut him down.
Tiger has emerged from that mass scourging, and the physical and mental trauma of a chronic, career-threatening injury, in the most profound manner.
He was chewed up and spat out by propriety, quickly recast as the villain.
He was dragged from his gilded temple and ferociously attacked while trapped in the web.
Tears of joy over his golf deeds were replaced by tears of disbelief over the deterioration of his skills.
Now this human god moves more comfortably among us mere mortals.
Many of whom had worshiped him, then had loathed him, and now worship him again.
He was brought to his knees, but rose again - and how!
Mark Bode is an ACM journalist.