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Tiger Woods emerged Friday from his philanderers’ prison.
He was back at his corporately saleable best, charming, affable and oh-so humble.
He and his marketing spin doctors once sold the world on his squeaky-clean, all-America, boy-next-door image. Maybe they figure if you can fool all of the people some of the time, why not have another go.
Woods couldn’t say sorry often enough.
He told the world he's found religion. He painted his wife in saintliness. His mom was front and centre and there were hugs all round for the only camera Woods allowed in the room.
And so begins the rebranding of the world’s No. 1 golfer and money-making machine.
In his first public appearance since a bizarre November car crash that ultimately ripped away the facade of the loving, family man to reveal a skirt-chasing, self-absorbed liar, Woods said all the right things.
“I let you down and I let down my fans,” Woods told about 40 hand-picked observers in Florida.
“I have bitterly disappointed all of you. I have made you question who I am and how I have done the things I did. I’m embarrassed I put you in this position. I am so sorry.”
Woods has been twisting in the foul winds of innuendo, speculation and the awful truth that his integrity is forever compromised.
A dozen women, including a porn star, strippers and waitresses, decided to kiss and tell and Friday Woods made an attempt to placate a discomfited wife and public — not to mention stop a bleeding that could cost the golf industry an estimated $500 million this year.
“I have a lot to atone for. The issue involved here was my repeated irresponsible behaviour. I was unfaithful. I had affairs. I cheated ... I am the only person to blame,” Woods said.
Personally, I could care less if Woods bedded the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir between rounds or had an underwear drawer at the Playboy Mansion.
It’s the duplicity that is irksome.
Dennis Rodman might’ve acted weird, but he revelled in his weirdness. As role models go, John Daly ranks up there with the Marlboro Man but he never pretended otherwise. Charles Barkley was mouthy — and didn’t care. Alternately loved and hated, he didn’t care. He didn’t try to fool anybody.
Woods can’t help himself in his attempt to stage-manage the world. He needs the world to love him. That’s why only select reporters were invited and nobody was allowed to ask any questions. That might’ve worked Friday but it won’t work in the real world.
He was greeted at the gates to the club Friday by a pair of sign-waving, scantily clad women who referred to him rather unpleasantly.
Welcome to your new world, Tiger.
It is a world where there aren’t any marshals to quiet camera shutters, or any caddies to chase off photographers.
In the real world there will be hard questions, not a tame audience.
And in the real world, not everyone will forgive. There will be catcalls and he will have to accept and deal with the idea not everyone loves him. Not anymore.
Woods said a sense of entitlement that came from too much fame and money got him into this trouble.
“I thought I could get away with whatever I wanted to,” Woods said.
While he seems genuinely sorry for what he has brought upon himself and his family — that sense of entitlement also remains in evidence.
He told the public he wouldn’t talk about his affairs or whether he and his wife will stay together and he upbraided photographers for taking photos of his mother, wife and daughter.
Someone should’ve explained to him that when you’re the most famous golfer in the world, when you rake in $20 million a year in appearance fees alone, and then suddenly run away and hide, people are going to come looking.
When the world invites you into its living room every weekend, the price is that you have to let the world into your life. It’s not always a comfortable tradeoff but it’s the price of fame.
Guess Woods didn’t get that memo.
The self-imposed exile is senseless. When Kobe Bryant faced a similar dilemma he admitted his mistake, played through the shrapnel, and everyone went back to cheering. Or booing.
Woods’ dalliance isn’t unusual to pro sports. If every athlete with an extra-marital fling took the year off, everyone from Chris Cuthbert to Bob Cole would be unemployed and sports writers would be covering the national oragami championships.
Woods messed up.
We know already.
Here’s hoping someone gets smart.
No more press conferences.
No more heartfelt promises to be a sweetheart.
Tiger’s best course of action is, and always has been, to pick up his clubs and just play.
bill.lankhof@sunmedia.ca