“Hole in one”
Tiger Woods has apologised publicly in a heartfelt, sincere, genuine and earnest press conference written by his public relations company. The Act of Contrition took place before family, friends and a hand-picked audience. Tiger’s words have now gone to the world through The Holy White Forest of Satellite Dishes and have displaced all major tragedies and wars from the headlines.
Presumably, his performance will have been followed by him getting a few holes in. Sorry, but the jokes just keep coming. (Oops!) Impossible to resist. Public self-flagellation has never been carried-off successfully and all that was missing from this particular show was the “dignified” wife. The formula for this type of event , although well-established is still simultaneously cringe-making, insincere, tragic and funny. Celebrity pantomime at its best.
“I am so sorry”. “What I did is unacceptable and I am the only person to blame.” That latter line was a bit pointless because it has always been difficult to blame anyone else for serial adultery. We’ll never know what motivated him to develop the morals of an alley cat but the sad fact is that through his position and success, he had direct access to the sort of amateur hooker that most men can only dream of.
That old saying that when God created man, he gave him a brain and a penis but only enough blood to operate one at a time has never been more apt.
“Today I want to ask for your help. I ask you to find it in your heart to believe in me again.”
Really Tiger, there’s no point in asking the press for help because you’ve never liked the press and they’ve never really liked you. The press will continue to be sceptical and that, in the long term is probably a good thing. It might help you to keep it in your trousers.
To put things into perspective , no-one died and no-one was maimed and it’s a pity that the Tiger’s horizontal habits can attract more media attention than the repatriated coffin of a young soldier who died fighting for his country. This time, the only lives which were ruined were his own family’s but the billion or so in the bank ought to take the edge off any discomfort.
What of the lives of the bimbos that he screwed? They have been the bit-part players in this saga – or more accurately, the chorus. Without doubt, their lives have been vastly enhanced through being nailed by the Tiger. Their spreads with Tiger have been rewarded with spreads in glossy magazines. The only remarkable thing is that they all seem to conform to a single Identifit – Central Casting Caucasian Bimbette – and as repetitiously predictable as a long photocopier run. Incidentally, one would hate to accuse Tiger Woods of racism but he does not seem too keen on black girls – only leggy blondes with big tits.
Amnesic sponsors are already forming a queue, chequebooks at the ready while Tiger “mends” his marriage and “spends time with those most important to him.” . Oh yes, then there’s the not insignificant matter of the sex-therapy. It is no longer possible to have a high sex-drive and to want to nail anything that moves – nowadays, it has to be a disease ; an addiction. Money, success and power have always been powerful aphrodisiacs and only become an “addiction” when you are caught.
There’s nothing like a cry for help to soften even the most hardened and uncompromising critic.
Surely, an addiction only develops after one has become dependant and dependency is a function of frequency. That is why the sex addiction syndrome (which was probably invented by Michael Douglas’ publicist) is such a nonsense. Most men (and women) will screw if the right circumstances and opportunities present themselves. Tiger was merely a victim of circumstance, statistics and mega-opportunity.
So, what’s the future for Tiger Woods? The future’s Orange, or Nike, or Gillette and will be provided by any number of already-slavering marketing departments.
Meanwhile, his image appears damaged beyond total repair unless of course he does something so utterly fantastic that it would totally overshadow his innumerable indiscretions – but it wouldn’t be easy and would have to appeal to middle America and its own addiction to home-grown heroes.
To paraphrase David Letterman: “Perhaps if he were to bring-in Bin Laden on a golf cart and then land it in the Hudson river – that might be a start.”