The Gall of Tiger Not Telling All

So Tiger Woods has come clean, sort of, about his extramarital affairs. I rather wish he hadn't, not because I'm not curious about the saga, but because this means Mike Lopresti gets what he wants.

Lopresti is a nationally syndicated columnist whose column is about how Tiger "owes" it to us to bare his soul and all the juicy details that go with it. It's such a breathtakingly wrongheaded column that it gets the dubious distinction of being my first fisking.

I've wanted to do a fisking for a long time. No one will likely fisk as hilariously well as the boys at FireJoeMorgan.com did. Kissing Suzy Kolber fisks Peter King once a week as a direct tribute to FJM, but it's just not the same.

Even the columnists I ruthlessly assail make enough good points or at least uncontroversial points that I've never taken an entire column to task in this space, so what Lopresti has accomplished is really special.

Before I tear into this, let me say up front that I have no sympathy for celebrities who bemoan their lack of privacy. They signed up for it when they agreed to do and keep doing the thing that makes them famous. But just as I don't begrudge the paparazzi for taking snapshots (as long as they don't endanger anyone's safety), I also don't begrudge the celebrities for trying to protect their privacy and their secrets.

Lopresti sees it differently.

Is there a room that could be borrowed for a press conference? Is a microphone handy? Good. Tiger, it's time. If not now, soon. The silence has been deafening, and it won't work. It really won't.

It won't work ... for what, exactly? If he doesn't want the world to know his darkest secrets, and his partner(s) in crime don't spill the beans either, than voila! The silence works!

Maybe he means it won't "work" in terms of getting himself off the front of the tabloids. 'Cause man, those entertainment-gossip consumers are notorious for their long attention spans.

Into each charmed life, some rain must fall, often accompanied by juicy headlines across the front of a tabloid or breathless new tidbits on a computer screen. That's when the chosen few of our landscape find out that anyone can get wet. That's when they discover how bulletproof they are, or aren't.

I think this paragraph was Lopresti's way of testing how many hackneyed cliches he could stuff into one paragraph and still get paid. And I don't think Tiger made any claims on being "bulletproof," he's emphasized he's only human from the get-go.

When Tiger Woods walks to the No. 1 tee, the masses part to allow him to pass. When he faces a difficult putt, the gallery hushes.

That's because he's a professional golfer. They do the same for the Monday qualifiers who shoot 78-75-CUT.

When he allows a worshipful world access to his thoughts, everyone crowds in to hear. When he says go away, everyone does.

When he wants an Ottoman, everyone falls to their hands and feet and offers up their backs, People admire Tiger, but nobody thinks he's Gandhi. Accept his dad, of course.

Easy to see how a famous and accomplished man could grow accustomed to such control, even be deluded by it. He's always been able to do things his way. Why not now?

Here again, wishing Tiger was surprised at the world's reaction to last week's events and at his own fallibility, Lopresti simply pretends he is.

Just say no, and close the door. They'll leave respectfully, and go back to counting birdies and eagles. They always have. Those are the rules. Golf, after all, is a game of order.

I see I'm just going to need to copy and paste my last sentence about eight more times to finish this article.

But those television satellite trucks parked in an electronic vigil outside his house — that's not order. The rules, as suddenly as an SUV can hit a fire hydrant, have changed for Tiger Woods.

While we are projecting, I submit that a satisfied grin crossed Lopresti's face when he came up with "electronic vigil."

The world is such a communicative place, with so many ways available to say anything. But with that comes a modern reality. Those who say nothing can look conspicuous. Even, under certain conditions, suspicious.

I bet Lopresti was really mad when his editor took out, "His silence, so often arresting, is now convicting."

The longer this goes without explanation, the more strangers search his life, the more people wonder what is being hidden. Fair? Not the issue. That is the way it is.

I know how furious I get when people wonder about personal details of my life. You can read all about it in my upcoming book, The Audacity of Curiosity.

There is less sympathy the day they seek to trade their talent for endorsement riches. Once they try to sell us something, once they accept the role of representing something, they're asking us to trust them. They're seeking to be, for want of a better term, role models.

In a column full of prize peaches, this one is my favorite. Where to begin?

I didn't realize that commercials were such an exercise in trust, nor that the default was to trust advertisements, which exist solely to convince you to give companies money in exchange for their product.

Carrot Top, you are scandal-free to my knowledge. If there was a scandal, I have no reason to believe you would not be completely forthright in discussing it . I shall therefore use 1-800-CALL-ATT with impunity for my collect calling needs, armed with the comfort of your endorsement like a baby being cradled in your mighty arms.

Tiger doesn't give a shit if you buy a Buick or a bottle of Gatorade. These companies will live or die regardless of his commercials, and he isn't paid on commission. I hope Lopresti gets the opportunity to tell Tiger to his face, "If you don't tell me all, I will take the products you endorse less seriously!" I imagine Tiger could use a good laugh right now.

But it is good to know that Tiger wants us to buy Gillette razors because he's "seeking to be a role model."

Tiger Woods, marketing juggernaut and golf ambassador, must stand up soon and have a chat with the public that so eagerly gave him the keys to the globe. Maybe he is protecting his wife, himself, his family. Can't be easy, going from idol to tabloid fodder in a week. But stonewalling never fixed a problem like this.

He doesn't have to tell us everything. But he must tell us something. He really must.

And if he doesn't, then the reporters will camp out on his doorstep until Zac Efron is seen holding hands with Miley Cyrus, and Johnny Miller will still occasionally be bringing it up even as he is playing the 2026 Senior British Open. Is that what you want, Tiger?