sportstapas
A little dishing on sports

Silent Tiger

I’ve been hearing rumors that Tiger Woods spoke publicly this week about, oh, I don’t know, stuff.  Since I have not been able to independently verify these rumors, I am loathe to comment, but due to the importance of Tiger’s infidelities to national security, the global economy and the Florida Chamber of Commerce, I feel compelled to place something in the public record about this issue, lest it be consigned to historical archives along with such trivialities as: the theory of evolution, federal lawmaking and Ashlee Simpson.  Wentz.

When last I left Tiger Woods, he was lying on the curb, next to his well ventilated Escalade, waiting to be taken to the hospital for treatment on his mentally ill penis.  Through his spokespeople and/or website, Tiger made a defiant statement, followed by a more conciliatory statement, followed by a statement telling us he was going away for awhile.  Thinking that the national news networks were once again free to cover the debate over health care reform, Snooki’s racy photos and whether captured terrorists should be shot on sight or forced to watch Medium and the Ghost Whisperer with my wife and I (“I’ll tell you anything you want to know!”), I rejoiced, believing that normalcy was on the horizon.

So it was disturbing to me to hear that Woods might again be seeking the public eye.  Honestly, what could he tell me at this point that I would care to hear?  Unless Tiger’s 15th affair was with Punxsutawney Phil, there’s no more news here.  I mean, how far do we expect him to deviate from the Sex Scandal Playbook?

Dear Six-Billion People I’ve Never Met,

I’m here to tell you that I have made mistakes; I apologize for those mistakes; I will spend the rest of my life attempting to atone for those mistakes and win back the tryst trust of [Nike, Accenture, American Express, my wife, my children, my parents, Canon, Gatorade, Cadillac – especially Cadillac because I love my Escalade(s) – my agent, my caddie, my coach, and all the fine people at the Bunny Ranch].  I ask that you respect my family’s privacy and allow us to work through our problems outside the withering glare of the public eye.  I don’t have anything more of substance to say, but my handlers thought it was important that I spend at least 13 and ½ minutes out here talking to you, so it doesn’t seem like I’m just ducking and running, even though I’m not taking any questions, and not allowing anyone who disapproves of me within 500 feet.  Twelve minutes to go, so, um, what is about gay people and sequins?  I mean, black people and fried chicken, what’s that all about?  Uh, um, uh…

All I can say is that I hope the rumors are not true and Tiger did not in fact speak publicly about whatever is going on with Tiger right now.  Tiger, we don’t care.  Handle your business, move on with your life, and try not to get eaten by Charles Barkley.  I heard about that time you were out with him and spilled barbecue sauce on your leg.  Close call, huh?

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2 Responses to “Silent Tiger”

  1. […] I furrowed my brow and answered that I’ve already written about Tiger’s lack of accountability; Tiger’s pitiful first apology; and Tiger’s miraculous recovery from sex addiction.  Unless Tiger coins a new definition for […]

  2. […] I furrowed my brow and answered that I’ve already written about Tiger’s lack of accountability; Tiger’s pitiful first apology; and Tiger’s miraculous recovery from sex addiction.  Unless Tiger coins a new definition for […]


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