Everyone wants to talk about Tiger Woods.
So here it goes.
The accident is about as bizarre as former Vice President Dick Cheney shooting his friend while “quail hunting” in an enclosed “ranch.”
While Cheney’s birdshot blunder epitomized to many a confused presidency, Woods’ peel-out is ironic in the opposite sense.
Woods is a man of painstaking discipline, mental clarity, a master of golf’s minutia — which is the sport defined.
His prosaic persona, at least if you’re a Chappelle fan, is crafted to blend with golf’s mono-ethnic, highly conservative tradition.
While the image of Cheney wildly firing birdshot into a crowd of flightless, fenced-in birds and “accidently” hitting his friend may make sense at some level, Woods’ incomprehensible miscue doesn’t.
Teenagers crash through the closed garage.
Hitting a fire hydrant and then a tree by backing out of your driveway?
Back out of the driveway. I got that.
Hit a fire hydrant. Jeez, OK.
Then hit a tree. Uh, huh?
Try to wrap your mind around that for a moment.
The worst thing to come of this is not all the potshots, or the speculation of drinking, if I may be excused for the former and by the end of this saga the latter.
Dude, Tiger, kill this story already.
Tell the truth.
