As magical as it was illogical.

They say form is temporary class is permanent. But when class is tainted by four back surgeries, personal turmoil, a restricted swing, and a world ranking of 1,199 – it’s a notion that maybe needs revising.

And yet on a surreal Masters Sunday, 11 years since his last major win and 14 since a green jacket at Augusta, Tiger Woods prevailed. And he did so amidst a hyperbole of euphoria from those to whom his appeal has never waned.

Indeed, the desperation for the 43-year-old to triumph was empowering. Every drive that landed safely prompted eruptions in the gallery, every missed putt brought gasps of despair, every birdie had Twitter taken over by animal emojis.

Woods is far from a flawless character, and yet he captivates like few others in sport ever have.

Even at his lowest ebb, when many an expert had written him off, supporters still believed. When his ranking was dropping, mass crowds still followed at every tournament. His 2018 Tour Championship win had journalists bizarrely thanking him at press conferences.

At the Ryder Cup opening ceremony in Le Golf National last October, all 28 players were introduced to a European dominated crowd. By far, the biggest cheer came for a man for whom the tournament has always essentially served as an inconvenience.

And yesterday afternoon the seemingly blind faith was rewarded. As if it were a dreamy Hollywood script, the fallen hero rose again to cement one of the great sporting comebacks. His approach play was at times scintillating, his recovery shots phenomenal, his concentration undeterred by a fluctuating leaderboard.

For American fans in particular, a fairy tale unravelled before their eyes. Rocky Balboa was back up off the canvas again.

Of course, to pass this off as one of those non-sensical sporting anomalies is misleading. The desire and resilience of Woods to keep going, to stave off advised retirement, and to battle through debilitating injuries is hard to comprehend. The sort of sheer bloody single mindedness that often separates the greats from the remainder.

For much of this past decade it appeared the game had left him behind. Younger stars had emerged. Woods had been imposing in his prime, but his time was up.

And yet he refused to die. To Woods, golf has always been his world and his world only - the rest just happen to live in it.