Don’t Call it a Comeback!

It’s official. Tiger Woods has finally mastered his Lil Tiger and will make his return to professional golf…
Me & Ms Jones

Tiger still wants to swing

It’s official. Tiger Woods has finally mastered his Lil Tiger and will make his return to professional golf at The Masters. The rumor mills have already been buzzing for days. “Tiger ready for his comeback?” seems to have been the preferred headline. Comeback? Come on! Tiger’s last tournament was just this past November. He ended 2009 ranked first is both cash and wins, taking home PGA’s Player of the Year title without winning a single major. Maybe that’s what they mean. Tiger hasn’t won a major since 2008’s U.S. Open. Poor Tiger. Bottom Line: Missing what amounts to the off-season while spending a few weeks in sex rehab does not a comeback make.

I wonder when his sponsors will start their comeback, though. I don’t speak for Gillette, AT&T, Gatorade and the like, but I suspect their reaction to Tiger’s admitted infidelities was designed more as a way to not piss of women than a direct condemnation of his behavior. If most guys are like me, and I suspect they are, they were giving Tiger a mental high five every time a new bombshell came out of the closet to share her tawdry details about her own personal Tiger safari. I’m also dubious about his stint in rehab.

Now, I’m not saying sex addicts don’t exist, or that sex addiction is not a problem. I just don’t think that was Tiger’s problem. I know a little about addiction, and in my definition an addiction is a dependence that negatively impacts your personal life. Considering his record in 2009 it obviously didn’t affect his game. Sure, it affected his marriage, but that’s because he got caught, not because he was fucking to a fault. If you ask me, Tiger’s real problem is his bigger-than-life ego.

If you had that many gorgeous girls throwing themselves at you, all the time, everywhere you went, you’d have a hard time saying no, too—that is if gorgeous girls are your thing. Shit, I’m tempted by any girl who throws herself at me, and few of them would qualify as gorgeous. I figure nearly getting beaned with his own nine iron by his wife Elin should be enough to shrink his ego to a more manageable size. As far as his sponsors go, I suspect you’ll see them trickle back the longer he plays this season. If he wins The Masters you might actually see a flood. Winning is the best form of redemption. Otherwise, Tiger can become the master of Puerto Rican golf. It’s just like regular golf, except you stick your club in the hole and leave your balls hanging out; the more strokes, the better.

Me & Ms Jones in all her sexiness

In the meantime, if you want a real comeback keep your eyes on the WNBA’s Tulsa Shock this season. My big crush of the 2000 Summer Olympics, Marion Jones, signed a one-year contract with them on March 10, reportedly for the league minimum of $35,000—about as much as I made in a year as a retail manager. After six months in federal prison, followed by a year and a half of licking her wounds (I would’ve helped her lick them, had she asked.), she’s likely not in top form. But if Ms Jones, who as a point guard led the North Carolina Tarheels to their first national championship in 1994, can average a double double this season for the Shock, I would rate that comeback worthy. Tiger returning to golf? That’s just business a usual. Condom sales must be taking a nosedive, though.

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