Denis Poroy / AP

In a tournament, Tiger Woods has to go up against a host of competitors, not just one like tennis star Roger Federer.

What makes Woods slightly more dominating than Federer is this: He’s doing things that have never been done in golf, or can be matched by just one other name, so long as you’re able to dig under decades of dust. His four consecutive triumphs in professional majors? Don’t bother looking. Woods stands alone. His wins in three pro majors in a season? Only Hogan has accomplished that — and that was 53 years ago. His current streak of seven straight PGA Tour wins? Only Byron Nelson matches that — but you have to go back to 1945 when he had 11.

Federer won three majors in 2004 and 2006. Impressive, for sure. But Connors went 3-for-3 in 1974 and might have won the Grand Slam had he not been banished that season from the French Open. For another name who won three majors in a season, drift back a mere 18 seasons when Wilander turned the trick. And, of course, the Grand Slam has been accomplished three times in tennis (Don Budge once, Rod Laver twice), while in golf only Bobby Jones has turned the trick, though with an asterisk since two legs of his conquest were amateur events. No one has ever won the professional Grand Slam in golf, a pursuit that is within Woods’ mighty grasp this season.

That brings us to another edge Woods has on Federer, his proven record on all surfaces, whether it be the rolling table-top greens of Augusta, the 25-yard fairways of the U.S. Open, the brick-hard links of Scotland, or the spongy and humidified greens of the PGA Championship. Woods is one of six players who’ve won all four legs of the professional Grand Slam. When Federer wins on French Open clay, I’ll consider his domination on par with Woods’.

The dynamics of the two games are similar in some respects, but vastly different in others. Chances are, a lackluster Federer can survive a first-round match against 274^th-ranked player in the world; after all, he only has that one opponent. If Woods plays poorly in the first round, he’ll slip behind dozens of names and pretty much take himself out of contention, and for proof, consider last summer’s U.S. Open when he posted 76, trailed by seven, and had 70 players ahead of him.

Again, if Federer stumbles similarly and needs a fifth-set tiebreaker to win on his first day, he’s still tied for the lead with a guy who rolls, 6-0, 6-0, 6-0.

In golf, you don’t get days off during a tournament to regroup, like tennis players do.

In golf, you don’t have the luxury of uniform playing fields, since they come in all shapes and sizes, unlike tennis.

In golf, the “rub of the green” is still very much a part of things, while tennis has tried to sanitize things by incorporating instant replay.

Unlike tennis, where top-seeded players get prime court space and more desirable starting times, top-tier golfers get assigned tee times for rounds 1 and 2, with no consideration of comfort zones.

Never would I suggest that golf required more physical stamina than tennis; it doesn’t. But in golf more than tennis, factors are out of your control and thus bring luck into the equation and one can only imagine how many majors Nicklaus would have won had luck been on his side a little more.

Woods also stands in a sizzling spotlight that Federer for the most part can avoid. By simply teeing it up, Woods makes a tournament a big deal to the sports world, whether it be in Dubai, China, or San Diego. Not so Federer, who no doubt won tournaments other than Wimbledon and the U.S. Open last year, but few could name them, a less chaotic whirlwind that Woods doesn’t enjoy.

A year from now, this argument could still be viable. Who knows, maybe we’ll be debating it two and three years from now. But for right now, in the aftermath of one man’s seventh straight PGA Tour win and another man’s third straight major tennis title, give the edge to Woods, who has redefined the concept of athletic dominance.