"It's his personal life, stop prying... let him work it out in privacy."
Since when do worldwide icons get to dictate when public ends and private begins? Not after smashing your car into two inanimate objects a punch-shot from your driveway, that's for sure. To be clear, I am not a tabloid, TMZ, Perez Hilton fan. The world would be a better place without media outlets such as the aforementioned plastering absurd celebrity behavior across their pages for adolescents to see and associate with importance and status.
I am, however... well I guess I WAS, a huge fan of Tiger Woods. It is somewhat uncharacteristic of me because I love underdogs. Therefore I cannot stand the likes of UF Football, the Yankees, Patriots, etc. But Tiger. That man is in his own world. Somebody so dedicated to a craft that relies on such minutia, and tedious practice is something over which one can be in awe. His gutsy US Open playoff performance, his iron will and nerves of steel. Tiger personified an image that was as close to perfection as humanly possible. Beautiful wife, two kids, unsurpassed athletic ability, and a fierce competitive nature.
When other brain dead athletes are making the front page for DUIs, gun possession, drugs, steroids, it was Tiger who seemed impervious to faults. Okay, yes, he is a golfer, but he still seemed so far above the petty mega-star temptations, a guy who really had his head screwed on straight.
I think guys everywhere who are bummed out by all of this are bummed out not because of adultery, but because we finally saw a hero, who seemed unflappable and rock-solid, tumble and wipe out so hard. Tiger was like James Bond. He's cool, collected, calm under pressure. A kind of personality like Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra, or that Dos Equis guy. He epitomized the phrase "Women want him and men want to be him". And we're mad because now we've seen him unravelled in e-mail, text messages, and VOICE MAILS saying his OWN name. Son of a ----- C'MON MAN! It's not like there's another Tiger you can try to pin that on.
Now I know the feeling that the whole Wizard of Oz crew had when the curtain was pulled back to reveal the real man behind the mask. I mean, have you seen these women he's been having affairs with? And have you seen his wife? Hello?!?! Blonde Swedish bombshell, the mother of your two children or some nightclub skanks you met in Vegas and NY who look like they have fat from Roseanne's ass injected in their lips?
This guy had it all, but, in truth, he is just an insecure nerd who tried to bolster his ego by proving to himself he could get girls. His Stanford teammates did call him Erkel. Somebody please take his man-card away.
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