While waiting for Rory McIlroy to commence his final round on Sunday afternoon, a number of discussions were taking place concurrently.

Would he do it? Or would we soon be talking about the kind of choke we used to know? Did Cameron Young go to mass and did Shane Lowry buy a round in the clubhouse after his ace on Friday?

From there, more conversations were in flow. Aged 45, will Justin Rose ever act his age? Aged 46, will Sergio Garcia ever act his? A driver smashed against the cool box on the second tee updated the answer to the last of those.

These chats came and went, tail-end topics in the latter hours of a tournament that, for three rounds and counting, had been exceptional, especially the Saturday that saw McIlroy cough up the entirety of an unprecedented 36-hole lead.

But for all those exchanges, for all the names that floated in and out, one didn’t come up. What about Tiger Woods? And who cares?

On arrival here on Monday and sporadically in dispatches through Thursday, Woods and his impaired driving was the ghost stalking the grounds. From the walnut-lined press auditorium to the grassy mixed zones, opinions were sought in all directions.

One Augusta Fred, the club chairman Fred Ridley, spoke briefly of ‘fully supporting’ Woods’s decision to focus on his health and well-being, and another, the 1992 champion Fred Couples, was far more effusive.

He described the dance of maintaining Woods’s affections, and the need to not pry into his various dramas when they have their sporadic text exchanges. 

But Couples wanted the wounded cat to know he was loved. And he went further on the subject of living in pain, when he brought up the late basketball player Bill Walton. ‘He wanted to commit suicide,’ Couples said of Watkin. ‘Pain is a rough thing.’

That was one side of the Woods conversation in those early parts of the week. The other was a different instinct and maybe Jason Day articulated it best: ‘The only thing that I don’t understand is that it’s a little bit selfish of him to drive and put other people in harm’s way.’

The point of raising all of this again now is simple. Because once the golf started, the talking about Woods stopped. High as this sport has risen on his tide, it was never only about him. The biggest, yes. But bigger? No.

And this week at the Masters has proven as much, with its many dramas a perfect riposte to those who believe golf without Woods is beyond comprehension.

Ironically, the folk who might struggle most with that notion are the ones running the sport. Sympathy for Woods’s ailments is natural, but somewhere in the clawing for his approval it has repeatedly been lost on the likes of the PGA Tour that he has repeatedly endangered lives by getting behind the wheel. 

Woods’s reliance on medications clearly isn’t the only dependency issue at play here.

But this 90th edition of the Masters, just like the 89th and so on, has proven that great sport can loosen shackles to the past. 

For two days McIlroy was a free-swinging, devil-may-care colossus; on the third he was a punchline. Box office and the shadow of a 15-time major-winning great was nowhere in sight.

Ditto when we have occasion to mention Haotong Li, whose wedges carry the inscription: ‘Most handsome man in China.’

He has been giving daily updates here on his battle against a stomach upset, with the weary lament that he had been ‘living in the toilet’. Other parts of his life in the past few days have been spent near the very top of the leaderboard. 

‘Who would care if he won?’ asked one colleague, before answering his own question: ‘Well, other than the entirety of China.’

Scottie Scheffler’s mood swings have also been subtly fascinating after two months without a win, but his resurgence on Saturday was merely a subplot. 

The charge of Cam Young and the ravages of Amen Corner were better. So too the staying power of Justin Rose and the ever-growing collection of holes in one by Shane Lowry.

None of which would hold much of a candle to Woods at his peak. But he is 50 now, years removed from being a competitive factor, and sport has previous for finding new narratives. For progressing. For moving on. Moving Day at the Masters was as good a day as any for showing it isn’t such a terrifying thought.