Because You Never Asked

 

(12/09)

     Back in February of 2006 I wrote an essay called “A Business Opportunity” where I waxed poetically about that bigger than life icon of the American Dream, Tiger Woods. I will now re-create that passage in this essay, but before doing so I’ll pat myself on the back for a sentence that was so prophetic --- and the reader will surely recognize it --- it’s almost metaphysical. Did I jinx the fallen demy-god?

     “One of the more magnetic personalities in the world these days is the undeniably best golfer in the world, Tiger Woods (for more, see essay “Tiger Robinson”). It is not often that an athlete of such extraordinary talent is coupled with a positive kind of charisma that translates into a bullet proof marketing infallibility. Talent, sex appeal, style, a droolable Swedish wife --- Tiger is the whole package and more. With the help of his own good instincts and intelligence, he has been sold and packaged with a shrewdness bordering on perfection. Not being one to believe in anyone’s image, I would take a certain degree of comfort if he were found one night in a cheap motel with a bag of blow and a crack whore.

     That would truly be the end of the empire.

     In any event, late one Sunday afternoon, I was potatoed up on the couch doing the zapper thing, when I caught a glimpse of Tiger strolling down a fairway. The beautiful off red color of his perfectly fitting shirt seemed Byronesque against the manicured emerald background of the golf course. I put the zapper down and decided to stay for awhile. I am not a golfer. This is a perfect example of Tiger Power at work”.

      Woo! It is not often one can find assertions of such discredited qualities. It ranks right up there with the Earth being the center of the universe or blood letting as a cure. Tiger Woods, perhaps the most pristine representation of who we’d like to be, of what we envy; Tiger Woods, the maximum expression of a positive cultural product, has been found at the Bates Motel with his crack whore. At least I can say I had some inkling of this, that they didn’t completely draw the shades on my good instincts. Maybe 95% ---

     We have now entered a Post Tiger World and, contrary to that stated above, it is not the end of the empire. In fact, it could be seen as an excellent educational opportunity for a culture that wallows neck deep in the lies and quasi-lies of marketing, advertising, public relations, image, politics, and the insincere hustle of neo-liberal capitalism in general. The fall of Tiger has hit our culture like an emotional act of terrorism. Who can we trust? Who’s next? Mother Teresa?

     It is good this has happened. It thaws the ice shelf of naiveté the American public has been frozen in for too long. With time, this ice shelf will probably freeze into numbness once again, but at least for now, maybe we’ve learned something.

     The galactic distance between Woods’ public persona and his private reality might not be unique in the human experience, but when such spectacular contradictions are embodied in a public figure of his stature, the shock value is historic. There is no need to go on about who or what this man represented in the global pop culture. The seismic jolt of the story speaks quite cheaply for that. I’ll only add that a huge lie of this nature concentrated in a cultural hero of such Galahad proportions, could be unprecedented.

     Woods, of course, is not the only mega-star to be given an image that most facilitates financial profit. But no one has ever been marketed as an emblem of human perfection more than him. Some of his apologists claim we, his public, are to blame, that we’ve created this myth from our own vicarious needs. This is a grossly overstated concept. To deny the massive investment in Tiger-creation by those profiting for and from him, is like denying he can hit a golf ball. Sure, we fell for it, and that is why we feel so violated. In a sense, we’ve been made fools of.

     And really, isn’t it the low quality of his transgressions that continue to fuel this inferno? Tiger Woods, the quintessence of style, class, self confidence, intelligence, savoir faire --- Tiger Woods! --- an almost laboratory creation of Horatio Alger triumph in the theater of American bullcrap, a validation of all we stand for, truth, liberty, justice, hi-yo Silver, away!

     All of us, in our own mediocre, day in and day out way, understand the erotic pressures of life and how this can bring tension into our personal lives. We all understand how magnified such temptation can be for a person like Tiger Woods, who’s erotic possibilities could almost be described as infinite. If he had simply been too weak to defend himself from such temptation and had grudgingly succumbed to this tsunami of sexual availability few of us could ever imagine nor withstand, forgiveness would be a more plausible possibility.

     What makes this so problematic for Woods is that his actions do not show him to be a weak person, but a BAD person, a cynical person, a completely self centered person unconcerned with those he might be hurting. Unlike other young men of his ilk --- famous, rich, talented, attractive --- who might give in to an incessant feminine assault that overwhelms their defenses, Woods seemed to be seeking these liaisons. He seemed to be as much of a catalytic agent as the women he was sleeping with (or how about “fucking”?). All this as a newlywed. All this when his beautiful wife was pregnant with his children. There is an element of self indulgence here that is extremely unflattering, perhaps even repulsive. But self indulgence in the absence of wickedness can be tolerated. This is hardly the case with Tiger Woods.

     I’m lucky enough to have had some amorous experience with women who have fulfilled me in every way. Unfortunately (or fortunately, who knows?), none of these interludes lasted more than 5 years and, in truth, by the end of the second year or thereabouts, something began to be lacking. But we tried. In spite of these failures, the initial sincerity and the happiness it created were worth the experience. There are many variations on this theme and I do not consider my own history as far from average.

     In the case of Tiger Woods, one has to wonder, in light of the evidence now piling up, if he was ever really sincere with this prototypical Swedish beauty he married, or was she just another calculated prop in the staging of the Woods image? Could marriage fidelity have ever been a serious consideration for this man? It seems to have been for his wife, which shines a very sour light of insincerity and cavalier disregard for others upon the great golfer.

     And yet, this might not be the worst aspect of the Woods legacy. The villainous DNA  of male infidelity can hardly be deemed a surprise as we stand upon the massive dung heap of human history proceeding this moment in the now. Even worse than being considered a cad, a rogue, a superficial playboy with little regard for others, is to be considered stupid!

     Perhaps the most precious club in the Woods bag was his “intelligence”. Smart. This guy is smart. He knows what he is doing. Stanford. He’s got it all under control. Smart. If anyone might have pulled off such a double life, it could only have been Tiger. That’s how smart he is.

     That’s how smart he was. Who’s he smarter than now? Who’s not smarter than him?

     Many pundits believe once he returns to golf and starts winning again, many of these festering wounds will scab up and heal. If he can do that (if!) it would resolve a lot. This seems not implausible, but some scar tissue and disfigurement could be permanent. Here’s why:

     I have an acquaintance whose privacy (he deserves it Tiger) I’ll protect with the simple name of Joe. Joe is a successful practitioner of our culture who’s been married about 18 years, is raising a family and bringing home enough bacon to provide a lifestyle with the comforts and advantages most people would swoon for. His marriage, in my humble view, is neither good nor bad, but more correctly labeled typical. He has compromised with it, accepting both its joys and frustrations. He’s hung in there, done what he’s supposed to do, and, in truth, it ain’t perfect, but it ain’t bad.

     One of the great rewards of Joe’s life is to play golf at a posh country club. He’s earned it. He plays well, like a 14 the last I asked. As one might imagine, until recently, Joe idolized Tiger Woods, put him on a pedestal of respect and envy at the limits such feelings might exist in a mature adult.

     Such feelings no longer exist for Joe, and his attitude strongly suggests he is not coming back. His most telling words, the ones that have stuck with me from a more extensive diatribe, went something like this: “it’s not like he was cheating on a middle aged wife he’d grown weary with, I mean, he’d hardly been married at all --- and with what a piece of ass. He’s a pig”!

     One can understand Joe’s attitude, no? There are millions of Joes out there and they are at the center of the Woods business demographic. Unlike Lebron’s demographic, they have lots of money.

     I repeat, this is good. The modus operandi of our culture is constantly making fools of us by those profiting the most (see health care non-reform). Wake up America , Tiger Woods is everywhere.

     Relevant Material:

     “Idolization is a form of possession, and possession is only consumed in destruction”.

     The author, speaking of his fame, says the following: “It’s a mediocre misunderstanding. I am not who they think I am. They are not who they think they are. They dream they admire me. I dream they admire me. It’s just a conjunction of dreams. Nothing exists”.

     These two remarks are from the quasi-novel Mortal y Rosa (I would translate this as “Young and Mortal”),
by the Spanish genius Francisco Umbral.