Dec 2, 2009, 4:00 PM EST
OK, at this point I’m just going to drop the “guest post” tag and call Jelisa Castrodale a regular contributor; get used to seeing her around here. Today’s contribution — Tiger Woods, apologies, and crooked fire hydrants: A woman’s perspective. Enjoy.
By Jelisa Castrodale
Wow, my life was so hectic before Thanksgiving that I haven’t downloaded Rihanna’s latest album, haven’t seen the new Twilight flick, and haven’t slept with Tiger Woods. I guess I’m not very good at keeping up with trends.
Unless you live in rural Pennsylvania, churn your own butter, and shun zippers as the Devil’s Fasteners, you know that Woods — the world’s number one golfer and possibly the most popular athlete this side of David Beckham’s haircut — careened out of his driveway during the infomercial-only hours of Friday morning and promptly parked his Escalade in a fire hydrant. His wife Elin immediately teed off on the back window with a golf club and dragged an unconscious Woods out of the vehicle.
As it became apparent that the accident was less serious than initially reported, the lingering questions became Where was Tiger going at that hour? Was Elin unconventionally prepared for an emergency or on a jealousy-fueled rampage? And Why do they live in Orlando?
Woods has made zero public appearances since the incident, instead releasing the kinds of carefully-worded statements written by gentlemen with Brooks Brothers suits and quadruple-digit hourly rates. Most of his statements to the press concerned respect for his privacy, which is completely unsurprising coming from a man whose public persona has been more carefully cultivated than the fairways he walks on Sunday afternoons.
Tiger’s sometimes-plastic personality and ability to only speak in soundbites are what made it so surprising when several walking Restylane injections practically tripped over their stilettos to claim that they’d had affairs with him. So far, the list of alleged mistresses includes society girl Rachel Uchitel — whose occupation sounds only slightly less made up than ‘sports blogger’ — waitress-turned-reality star Jaimee Grubb and Vegas nightclub manager Kalika Moquin. The last time Woods swapped partners like this? The 2006 Ryder Cup. (RYDER? I BARELY KNOW HE—yeah, that’s probably enough).
This afternoon, Woods updated his website with a predictably emotionless non-response to the allegations that said only that he had “let his family down” and he “regrets those transgressions with all [his] heart.” Although it’s not the dictionary definition, ‘transgressions’ in this case means ‘banging random chicks’.
But is Woods really sorry? Absolutely. He’s sorry he got caught.
His anemic, SAT-worded apology appeared shortly after the unfortunately named Jaimee Grubb released a voicemail from Woods, in which he asks for “a huge favor,” for her to “take [her] name off [her] phone,” since Elin had gotten suspicious that Woods might be, ahem, playing through. Does that prove anything? No. But it doesn’t exactly help either.
So what happens now? Woods has some big divots to fix: in his marriage, in his reputation, and perhaps in his hugely lucrative endorsement portfolio. According to Forbes magazine, Tiger is the first billion dollar athlete and although his biggest sponsors (Nike, AT&T, Gillette, TAG Heuer) didn’t bolt after the accident, it will be interesting to see how they react after learning his personal life has become a foursome. I mean, despite his namesake line of sports drinks, Gatorade may not want to feature Woods’ face above the phrase “Is It In You?” anymore.
Based on the frequently misspelled comments on several websites, the public’s reaction has ranged from surprise to outrage to “WHY ARN’T U WORRYED ABOUT THE ECONEMY INSTED?”
“What about the children?” others have asked, since Woods –whose only previous indiscretion was releasing a line of mock turtlenecks — has absolutely been hailed as a role model. The only children that really matter are Sam and Charlie Woods, both of whom are — fortunately — too young to know that Daddy went to Vegas to practice his bump and run. And I’ve finally run out of sexually charged golf terminology, thank you for asking.
Yes, Tiger Woods is an unrivaled competitor, a massive public figure and an international brand. That doesn’t mean he owes us anything, whether it’s a more personalized apology, any kind of explanation, or a tearful early morning interview with Matt Lauer. The only person he owes is his wife and — depending on how willing she is to forgive his hair extension-wearing ‘transgressions’ — it could be a McCartney-sized settlement.
I just hope he pays her with one of those oversized checks.
Jelisa Castrodale is a writer and comedian who has learned a lot about life by making a mess of her own. She chronicles her failures at The Typing Makes Me Sound Busy, covers music for London’s BitchBuzz and twitters while she waits at stoplights. Castrodale was featured in the book Twitter Wit and was named one of Mashable’s 10 Funniest Twitterers.
Also by Jelisa Castrodale:
* Andre Agassi and the attack of the meth people [Link]
* Elizabeth Lambert and the art of the media double-standard [Link]
* Alicia Sacramone, Brady Quinn and the athlete love conundrum [Link]
- So long folks, it’s time for me to take off 18
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- None found