Wednesday, December 2, 2009
No Piece of Ass Is Worth It. Not Even Her.
If I never hear that voicemail again, it will still have been at least one too many times.
"Hey. It's Tiger. I need you to do me a huge favor..."
Cringe. My stomach starts to flip all over again.
I liked Tiger Woods where I had left him: up in the sporting firmament. Amidst the athletic Gods. As a guy who was a cut above, and a step ahead, in every regard.
Yeah, it was naive. I know that. But that's where I wanted him.
I wanted dearly to believe the "Ward-Cleaver-With-A-280-Yard-Stinger-2-Iron" myth. Now, he's like any 6th man on an NBA bench.
Thud. Down he comes.
You can rail all you want against the excesses of tabloid journalism.
Okay. Fine. Done, now?
The fact remains: the National Enquirer didn't send the bimbos to his hotel room. TMZ didn't make him send 300-plus text messages to a 21 year old cocktail waitress.
His bed. Lie in it.
Sadly, this Woods bombshell is the spectacular finale to what I am dubbing "The Year of the Cad."
Gov. Mark Sanford.
The creep who taped Erin Andrews.
Cads. All of them. Sadly, several paid the ultimate price for it. And nobody thinks infidelity should be a death sentence. But it's been a bad year all around.
I hate to pile on with the "I told you so" but I must in this regard. I said loudly: "Don't do it, Tiger."
People killed me. They said: "My God, look at that Swedish hottie! You're nuts, Czabe."
No, I said. I'm a realist. As Chris Rock once said: "You are only as faithful as your options."
And when you are a star athlete like him, the options are limitless. The buffet of women is open 24/7/365. And you need an A.C. Green or Doug Christie level of purity to resist it.
I said Tiger had plenty of time to get married in his 40's. If he wanted. But there was no obligation. I knew that his fame and money would put these women in his orbit. I knew that he was a golf dork at heart. Not a playboy.
Something was bound to give. But why did it have to be this embarrassing?