Tiger Woods "broke the news" on his Web site Tuesday that he'd had arthroscopic knee surgery, but there was something a little suspicious about the announcement and its timing. Woods did not seem to be favoring either leg at the Masters, and it wasn't his left knee that missed all of those birdie and par putts.
I'm not suggesting that Tiger didn't actually have the surgery, but just think about how convenient of an alibi it becomes for a disappointing finish. And think of all the things Woods could accomplish in a month-long hiatus in the middle of golf season:
Teach his daughter, Sam, to golf. She's almost 10 months old now, so she probably will be walking soon. Time to get her fitted for her own set of clubs, Dad. And while we're on the subject, if Sam becomes a great golfer 15 or 20 years down the road, will she be Tigress?
Work with Buick to create a branded car model. Gatorade already released a special, Tiger-branded line of drinks, including "Red Drive," "Cold Fusion," and "Quiet Storm." Buick should follow Gatorade's lead and release the Buick Roar, or something like that.
Go on vacation with his wife, Elin, somewhere far, far away from a golf course. Maybe Fiji. Then again, the paparazzi knows no bounds, and when they see him jogging along the beach, they'll know that the jig is up.
Start writing a book. If you're not a fan of golf, you may not know that Tiger has already written one book, an instructional piece artfully entitled How I play golf. It sold more than a million copies, but can you imagine how a memoir about his life so far would sell? The man is a legend in his own time. And the best part about writing books as a celebrity is that you don't even have to write it; in Terrell Owens' case, you may not have to read it, either!
Find a secluded putting green and start preparing for the U.S. Open. Putting is the weakest component of Tiger's game, and it more than likely cost him the Masters. I can just picture him now, working feverishly at a remote putting green somewhere, like a mad scientist searching for the magic elixir in his lab. The perfect stroke has to be in here somewhere!
I'm not suggesting that Tiger didn't actually have the surgery, but just think about how convenient of an alibi it becomes for a disappointing finish. And think of all the things Woods could accomplish in a month-long hiatus in the middle of golf season:
Teach his daughter, Sam, to golf. She's almost 10 months old now, so she probably will be walking soon. Time to get her fitted for her own set of clubs, Dad. And while we're on the subject, if Sam becomes a great golfer 15 or 20 years down the road, will she be Tigress?
Work with Buick to create a branded car model. Gatorade already released a special, Tiger-branded line of drinks, including "Red Drive," "Cold Fusion," and "Quiet Storm." Buick should follow Gatorade's lead and release the Buick Roar, or something like that.
Go on vacation with his wife, Elin, somewhere far, far away from a golf course. Maybe Fiji. Then again, the paparazzi knows no bounds, and when they see him jogging along the beach, they'll know that the jig is up.
Start writing a book. If you're not a fan of golf, you may not know that Tiger has already written one book, an instructional piece artfully entitled How I play golf. It sold more than a million copies, but can you imagine how a memoir about his life so far would sell? The man is a legend in his own time. And the best part about writing books as a celebrity is that you don't even have to write it; in Terrell Owens' case, you may not have to read it, either!
Find a secluded putting green and start preparing for the U.S. Open. Putting is the weakest component of Tiger's game, and it more than likely cost him the Masters. I can just picture him now, working feverishly at a remote putting green somewhere, like a mad scientist searching for the magic elixir in his lab. The perfect stroke has to be in here somewhere!
