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Tiger, Tiger, burning bright
In the middle of the night
Your own immoral hand and eye
Defamed your fearful symmetry.
Tiger, Tiger, your inner fire
Drove you to a media pyre.
You'll never escape your fate:
Stars self-immolate.
There's never been a golfer like Tiger Woods. He is powerful, lashing long drives and accurate shots from the fairway whenever he needs them. He is resourceful, frequently getting out of trouble with creatively shaped shots. He is magical around the green, precisely clipping par-saving chips and holing touchy birdie putts. And he has an iron will, competing round after round with a star's hot intensity no one else can match. He has a perfectly balanced game, Blakean in its symmetry. He's earned $93 million in prize money and many millions more in endorsements and appearance fees. At 34, he's already close to Jack Nicklaus' record of 71 PGA tournament wins. He has trophies from 14 major tournaments. When he plays in a televised event, the ratings soar; without him, professional golfers would still be overpaid, but not to the extent that they are now with Tiger attracting the crowds and the sponsors. I love golf but seldom watch a televised tournament if he isn't competing; without him, there's no zing.
And there's the rub. I, and tens of millions of others, am at fault here--not for Tiger's recent nocturnal behavior but for making that behavior so newsworthy. Instead of watching Tiger on TV, I should be out playing golf--or softball or basketball or tennis--myself. I should be hiking or doing home projects or reading or writing. I should not waste time idolizing this man, should not so thoroughly enjoy his triumphs vicariously. I should be seeking triumphs of my own. I should not, in my small way (watching Tiger on TV, reading about him in the print media, buying products that he endorses) contribute to his becoming a trillionaire. No one is that worthy. No one deserves that adulation. No one deserves that kind of money--not Alex Rodriguez or Michael Jordan or Michael Jackson--unless, like Bill Gates, he creates something that advances human knowledge or makes life more navigable. If these human stars become obscenely rich by living for me through their one special talent, that is my fault, in so far as I am enthralled by them.
What do they owe me for my adulation? Nothing. Good behavior? An explanation for any of their transgressions? An apology? Certainly not. Unless he did something criminal, Tiger does not have to explain any of his actions to me or any of his fans. It's my own damn fault that I am paying his salary, so to speak. He's entitled to his privacy, as I am to mine. Would I like an explanation? Sadly, yes. I'd be all over it. In fact, I've wasted my time imagining this happened:
In Australia, and perhaps elsewhere, Tiger dallied with a beauty or beauties (Rachel Uchitel and perhaps others). Tiger's wife, Elin, became aware of stories reported in tabloids and confronted Tiger. She didn't like his explanation and attacked him with her long fingernails, possibly even a knife. Cut and bruised, and fearing that if he fought back the incident would become public, he struggled to his Cadillac Escalade and attempted to flee. Elin pursued him, grabbing a long iron from a golf bag in the garage, and bashed in the back windows of the vehicle as Tiger began to drive away. Shocked, he lost control of himself and the car and ran into the fire hydrant near his driveway, then careened into a tree and came to a stop. Dazed, he got out of the car and lay on the ground. Remorseful, Elin rushed to him and began to comfort him. A neighbor called an aid car and Tiger was taken to a hospital. After a checkup and some minor repairs, Tiger returned home, where he and Elin and Team Tiger lawyers and advisers began concocting their plan to keep the public from learning the details of the incident.
Inevitably, the media has grabbed the Tiger story by the tail and will in time wear him down, ferret out the truth, and force a confession. The last thing I want is for a repentant Tiger to publicly apologize to Elin, his sponsors and well-wishers, and of course all those children out there. I dread hearing him go all Oprah and Dr. Phil on us, saying that he is not perfect and vowing to work on his relationship with his family and make better decisions in the future. But I know that's coming, and it's my fault. Tiger will be tamed by the media because I cannot avert my eyes.
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