For a man who has earned over $1 billion in his career, you would think that Tiger Woods would have some better PR people and strategists on his payroll.
Since he crashed his car in the early morning the day after Thanksgiving, Tiger has played pretty much everything wrong. He didn't talk to the police or the media from the outset, allowing rumors and speculation to run rampant about what had actually happened.
Once all of his alleged mistresses started coming out of the woodwork, he released a public statement that was vaguely apologetic and extremely critical of the media. He said he regretted "those transgressions" without ever establishing what they were, and he chastised the tabloids because he and his family were being "hounded." Because, you know, when arguably the biggest sports-related story of the decade erupts, the media has no right to inquire and investigate.
He supposedly checked into a sex-addict rehabilitation center, even though it's unclear if he actually is a sex addict or is just wildly unfaithful. But I guess I can't be too critical of that one — even if the cynical part of me thinks it screams "PR move," at least Tiger can say he's made an effort to change.
But then came his public, nationally televised apology. The speech itself said what it needed to say — it featured pretty much everything you'd want in an apology, such as an explanation of what he did, why it happened and a commitment to change — but it was the way Tiger read it that made viewers skeptical. His speech was choppy, he lacked emotion and his level of sincerity was unclear (again, for a man that's worth $1 billion, you would think he could take some public speaking lessons). Overall, he came off like a sixth-grader running for student government. And he didn't take any questions, only raising further suspicions about what he was hiding.
I understand that Tiger has always enjoyed his seclusion and has worked to protect his privacy during this time, but like it or not, he's a public figure — a figure that I've rooted for in dozens of golf tournaments, a figure that's tried to sell me video games and razor blades and sports drinks. He owes it to me and the rest of the public to come out of hiding.
Which is why I'm happy that Tiger has announced that he will play at the Masters. It's good for golf — honestly, how many people would watch a major that Steve Stricker was favored to win? — and it's good for Tiger. The only way people are going to move past everything is for him to come out, answer the questions that everyone's been asking and then do what the world wants him to do: play golf.
Some will say that Tiger's return will overshadow the Masters and is disrespectful to the sport and one of its most vaunted events. But go ask PGA commissioner Tim Finchem how he feels about Tiger's return. I'm sure he's not upset.
What does surprise me a bit is the fact that Tiger's not going to play a tournament before the Masters. But honestly, I like that even more. The drama will make for one of the most exciting golf events — if not sports events — in history.
He's ending a four-month hiatus from the sport by playing in the event that first propelled him to national stardom. Imagine if he wins! I'm probably getting ahead of myself — the chances of him coming out cold turkey and trumping the field are minimal — but wouldn't it be one of the greatest comeback stories of all time?
Plenty of people will be rooting against Tiger, and I'm sure there will be a fair share of hecklers following him around the course. But I'll be pulling for him. I don't condone what he's done, and I'll never view him the way I used to. But what can I say? I'm just a sucker for redemption.
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David Heck is a senior majoring in philosophy. He can be reached at David.Heck@tufts.edu.
