It might appear that Tiger Woods has lots of problems these days, but in fact he only has one problem: He is a boring, boring man who finds himself in a non-boring situation. We know how to solve this.
Here is where things stand for Tiger, this morning: His love life is pretty fucked. Although his sex life sounds great! Of the five or so extramarital women everybody thinks he boned, the big news today is about the original Tiger Fling Girl, Rachel Uchitel. Just two days ago she gave a big front-page exclusive interview to the New York Post about how this is all bullshit and she never did anything at all with Tiger and god, this is all bullshit, because of lying whores who hate her.
Well! She's changed her mind. Rachel's having a press conference this afternoon to announce that she did, in fact, do all that sexy stuff, with Tiger Woods. (Update: The press conference was just canceled, but the admission to boning the golf star is now out there.) We assume this is because she read our advice and wants to clear the air as she moves forward with her nightlife career, but, Rachel—not so abrupt next time. The turnaround from total, vehement lie to revelation of truth that everyone already suspected must be a little smoother, so as not to make you appear to be either a psycho or blackmail victim. Although we will consider everything forgiven if you make a point to mock the New York Post's dead-wrong exclusive at your press conference.
Tiger Woods: Your job is simple. Just be Tiger Woods. That means, continue being the most robotic, uninteresting sports megastar of our time. You, sir, are a cipher. Fans and sponsors love you for it, because they can project whatever image they want upon you, and your inscrutable, uninteresting being simply swallows it up.
Golf is the most uninteresting spectator sport in the world. Golf fans are not moralists. They are people who believe that golf shirts in various shades of coral are acceptable outerwear. They are the bland upper crust of Middle America. That, and rich assholes who love to cheat on their wives. Neither of these groups of golf fans cares one bit about your marital infidelity, Tiger. Nor do your sponsors. What they do care about is being forced to think about something other than golf.
People play (and watch) golf to escape the real world. The world of golf is a world of creepy perfectly manicured lawns and rolling greens as far as the eye can see and lots middle-aged white guys. People want to embrace you as the staid, unblinking image of perfection on a golf course, Tiger. They don't want to be forced to consider who you're fucking. The masochistic desire of sports fans for a feeling of inadequacy next to their heroes does not extend into the bedroom.
So just shut the fuck up and play golf, Tiger. You'll be boring the hell out of America again before you know it.