Tiger Woody

There he was standing in front of the world, apologizing for his bad behavior, begging our forgiveness. He joined the legions of athletes turned fallen role model, taking the blame, saying he’d done it all himself. Yep, just another star athlete saying it was all him, he’d never needed nor taken any of those performance enhancing drugs, like Viagra....

Just one camera and three news reporters were allowed, as if he were trying to keep the apology as private as the actions that resulted in his need to apologize.

But really, why do we care? I can understand his family being upset: they were the ones hurt by his actions. But it’s not as if he cheated on any of us. We didn’t admire him for his technique in the bedroom but on the golf course. Perhaps the condemnation comes from some bit of jealousy deep inside that bemoans the fact that we ourselves were never in a spot where we even could have transgressed as he did? Is that why we call it "getting lucky"?

Somehow his need for personal privacy offended us, the public, as if his skills and talent made him our personal property with the right to pry into every moment of his life, and being long denied those details, felt doubly justified in soaking up every sordid little revelation of his embarrassing sex life. We can’t see the hypocrisy in reviling him for the details that we insist we know, and then turning around and avidly following “Sex in the City” or “Housewives” or any of the similar trash offered on TV.

Hey, America, it’s just sex! Get over it already! Or maybe, just go get some.