With a 13-minute speech that was covered on as many TV channels as a presidential address, Tiger Woods’ awkward public apology was surprisingly successful. But it wasn’t the puppy-dog eyes that did it for him.
Tiger walked to the podium tepidly. Absent was the confidence we’re used to seeing him display on the golf course. He was as stiff as the starched, light-blue dress shirt he wore and looked more annoyed than apologetic as if to say he was not only sorry about what he did but that his life had to come this.
The privacy that Woods pleaded for will most likely soon be his. We’ll forgive him and not because he denied rumors of domestic abuse. Or his treatment for sex addiction, but because, now that the drama’s winding down, he’ll go back to being the superb golfer we once knew—and never really cared about.
I was all aboard the Tiger News Express from the day he crashed his Escalade into a tree. I wrote about him on my own blog, and read every piece of commentary I could find. For the next month, every conversation I had, whether it was with family, friends or strangers, Tiger Woods served as the perfect icebreaker. There was an endless array of commentary and jokes, and I indulged myself in it all.
But now, the party’s over.
During the press conference, I saw the jokes made by others on Twitter, and I even Tweeted a couple of my own, but honestly, they weren’t that funny. Not as funny as the ones we used to make before Tiger said anything at all. I truly do believe what Tiger wanted most out of this apology is exactly what he is going to get: a deflated interest in his personal life.