Tiger Woods: Are the Chinese Right?

The Chinese New Year in February will begin the year of the Tiger. Hasn't he gotten enough publicity?
A: No.

This rant is for Mr. Woods' enjoyment and reflection. Since it's for you, I'll just call you "Tiger," as, I'm nearly twice you're age.

You're not the 1st man to make a mistake. Nor are you the 1st to have gone for the forbidden fruit casting consequences aside. The difference between you and the rest of us 'Joe Nobodies' is that did so is that you fucked up under the brightest spotlight, on the biggest stage, of sports hero-worship in the history of modern record-keeping.

I'm glad you're not out there competing, because I'd hate to see you fling a club at a heckler near your tee box and get carted off in handcuffs. I'm of the opine that, with your unmatched concentration and hair-triggered demonstrative temper, a few well-timed remarks on televised golf tourneys might just send you the rubber room. Might even cause the cameras to stop following you on live coverage, for fear of capturing another flavor of indiscretion.

Pitiable. Not because you have everything for which the rest of us would beg of God 1%-, but because you're you, Tiger. The papparazzi have a worldwide, 24/7 A.P.B. out for you. And the mainstreamers in media would love to have their glory in an exclusive. You're a self-sentenced recluse. And your kids. And Elin.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall." Ouch, Tiger. Damn shit HELL, ouch!

You may change your whole life. Or lifestyle. Or not, although I wouldn't wager you'll follow the footsteps of the Domino's Pizza founder and give it all to the church. But, if you tune out your agent and handlers and lawyers and staffers whom you pay for advice.... If you roll your ego into a tight little ball and launch it from the Privacy's aft deck with that ancient 2-iron you love, and then throw in the 2-iron....

You know what? Maybe.... Just maybe if you lie down on a cool patch of beloved grass upon which you putt and play, and listen to Him who invented grass, you'll get the message. Reread the last sentence if you need to, noticing that I didn't say "talk" to Him. Just listen. I'm not convinced your ego's so swollen you can't decipher God's voice from you're own sense of common sense (which stock is way, way, way, down).

What's important? Whose opinion of you counts most? Can you paint a vivid picture of the Dad you'd want for your kids--and can you see how to become him?

Here's a precious secret I learned too late in my own life: Love is a behavior.

I found peace through grace. But it took an awful lot of humility and still struggle as if it's bad-tasting medicine. But I gotta, cuz I need to be able to sleep at night and shave this face in a mirror.

The Chinese--oft-regarded as wise--may just be correct, again. I'll pray that they are, and for you.