BACK at the start of the millennium, when the world had just recovered from the anxiety created by the discredited theory that all life would stop precisely at 00.00 on the first day of 2000, there came a concern greater than the threat of an untreatable virus, more worrying than that the most catastrophic natural disaster.

It was this: how could the golfing world protect its favoured child from the depredations of one Tiger Woods? The young American had won his first major - the 1997 Masters - by such a distance that Tom Kite, 12 shots in second place, deserved to be on an entirely separate leaderboard.

The Woods phenomenon was such that there were those who insisted he would win the Masters every year. Or every week. Tiger fever was at its most virulent. The Jack Nicklaus record of 18 major wins was thought to be a mere staging post as Woods romped towards into sporting mortality with who knows how many. After all, wasn't Augusta almost a gimme, the equivalent of a two-foot putt between friends on a gentle Sunday?

Two significant events then occurred. The first was the introduction of one Tom Fazio into what should have been a script of unrelenting victory, growing invincibility. Mr Fazio, a golf course designer, was brought in to Tiger-proof Augusta. He was, initially, less than successful.

Making a course longer and more difficult, had the curious effect of failing to discomfit the best player who hit the longest ball. Who could have predicted that?

But Mr Fazio did plant the sort of booby-trap that came to confound Woods. It was this: if Tiger did not hit it straight, then he would be punished. Tiger started hitting it crooked.

Not immediately, of course. After the Tiger-proofing, the intended victim won a further two green jackets. But, slowly but inexorably, Tiger's driving became fallible. A clue to this vulnerability may be found in the title that Hank Haney, the golf coach, gave to his memoir of his time with Woods. The Big Miss was not an allusion to one of Tiger's conquests but to his tendency to hit a drive so wide that it sometimes required a visa for another country.

The list of Tiger majors was thus being revised downwards even as Rory McIlroy, 14 years the great man's junior, was swishing his first shots in Northern Ireland.

The Woods mantle has long been in need of either a new wearer or a good dry clean. McIlroy has auditioned with some success for the former role. He has, at 25, amassed four majors. The Masters remains beyond him for another year but he is the pre-eminent golfer in the world.

The two players - the one-time Masters master and his apprentice - were paired together for the last round of Augusta 2015. The hope - certainly of the TV programmers - was that two of the most exciting golfers of any generation would combine to produce an explosion that would shake the casual dominance of Jordan Spieth, who will not be 22 until July.

There is in the golf world a queue forming behind the banner: The Next Tiger. Spieth has spent most of the past month nudging McIlroy out of line. He has become more insistent over this Georgia weekend.

He was allowed to remain unchallenged by both Woods and McIlroy in the final round. Both the American and the Northern Irishman had their chances to pressurise the leader from a distance, namely couple of holes ahead. Instead, by the time they had reached the ninth, they were still far behind in a leaderboard that suggested the green jacket would have to be measured for Spieth.

It was not an inaccuracy off the tee that had caused Woods the serious problems, though his tee shots regularly wormed their way into the light rough. It was his lack of a killer instinct on the greens. He missed early, makeable putts. He jarred his wrist with a shot at the ninth. Any injury was made the worse by the insult that he had completed the first half of the final day by dropping a shot rather than instituting a charge.

McIlroy was in better shape. He had made two shots on par, even if he was some way adrift of Spieth who completed his front nine in one under par, remaining four ahead of the field.

There is never any certainty when play reaches Amen Corner but there was one assertion that could be made without argument. Woods and McIlroy were out of contention and their subsequent performance would frank it.

Both were condemned to have to chase a score rather than craft a bid to catch the leader. There was, of course, a distinct difference between the pair.

Woods has been patronised by comments that he has played well at Augusta and may have laid a foundation for a return to the very top. He has not. He has produced the sort of tournament that only the great or once-great player can conjure from limited resources.

The appearance of Woods on the leaderboard, albeit at it edges, was an act of will, not a sign of returning powers. One only has to reflect on some of his most gaudy shots, including that tee shot on the 13th on Saturday that would have produced a groan from an 18-handicapper, to accept that this is a Woods that has far to travel to be a genuine contender at the sharp end of tournaments.

McIlroy, in contrast, will be a genuine contender for all majors, including the Masters in 2016.

There was enough in the Masters 2015 to suggest that Woods will tee it up at St Andrews in July, where he has won two of his three Opens. He will do so with increased hope.

There was nothing to dissuade one form favouring McIlroy to win it.

But this was all conjecture on a future event. Woods was once all about the here and now. He was once the man to seize the day. His grip has been broken, perhaps forever. The destination of the majors lies in the hands of others.