It is entirely possible that Tiger Woods, AKA the world's most famous athlete who also appears to be the most boring and bland and Jesus dude show a hint of spark and humor and life, would you please? it's entirely possible Tiger is far more messed up and clinically depressed than his juvenile, low-grade adoration of hookers, porn stars and skeevy Vegas waitresses would let anyone believe.
Let us acknowledge that possibility for a moment, as a means to justify the guy's absolutely deadly blandness, his unbearable contriteness, his refusal to show even a wisp of lightness or spark or shrugging get-over-it-edness. Maybe he's really dead inside. Maybe it's deeper and sadder than anyone knows. Fine.
But, oh my God, is this really how it's supposed to be? Is this the example we want? A dour American billionaire "hero" steps up and apologizes profusely, via careful script, to a huge array of people who have no real need for his apology, because no one really cares anyway? A speech that basically comes down to some rich guy no one really knows saying he's sorry for failing to live up to some impossible, ridiculous Mr. Nice Guy standard set by, well, himself, a hundred endorsement deals and an entirely bogus Christian moral code that doesn't really exist? Great.
But oh, how relentlessly depressing. And how utterly silly. Watching Tiger bury himself under an avalanche of sad-faced apologies and surprisingly awful clothing, I'm reminded of a similar reaction I had when I watched Andre Agassi break into tears on camera in front of a delighted Katie Couric not long ago. ...
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