Everything But Poker

The size and breadth of this Tiger Woods scandal cannot be understated. As I type this, his mistress list stands at 11, his mother-in-law has just been released from the hospital and there are reports that Elin is already out the door. Oh, and Gatorade dropped the Tiger Focus brand yesterday while many of his other sponsors pulled his primetime television ads. And it’s only going to get worse – well, at least for Tiger.

One man that undoubtedly stands to benefit from these revelations, though, is Tim Finchem, the commissioner of the PGA. You may think that because Tiger is the face of golf, and that that face now sports the kiss of a well-swung 9 iron, the whole sport will inevitably bruise with it. But that is not the case – the sport will go on. Yes, ratings will likely falter in the beginning, and sponsorship deals and paid attendance at events may as well, but only if Tiger remains in seclusion. People still want to see him play, probably even more so now.

And even if he does remain in hiding, it won’t make that much of a difference to the dedicated golf fans because the transformational appeal of Tiger Woods has been in a steady decline for the past 10 years anyway – the shock of a half-black, half-Asian 21-year-old with a movie-poster smile winning the Masters by a record 12 strokes has died down now that the sport is more competitive and other equally intriguing personalities have emerged on tour.

Despite all that, Tiger still poses the largest threat to the tour’s and Finchem’s autonomy. Tiger hosts his own PGA event in Washington, D.C., he picks and chooses which events to play, and he has complete control over the golf media – ever since this 1997 GQ profile, which portrayed Tiger less as a righteous cultural messiah than a normal, flawed 21-year-old kid, he has made sure that those reporting on golf respect his wrath. As early as 2000, his father, Earl Woods, offered not-so-subtle

hints that Tiger could leave the PGA and start his own tour any minute, as he did to Jet Magazine: “I'm not saying this in a threatening mode, but Tiger is an independent entrepreneur. He can give up his PGA Tour status and play where he wants. He can take his game to Europe, Africa, Asia or wherever he wants and the world will follow.”

But now? Not a chance in hell. Tiger can no longer choose who interviews him and what questions are asked of him -- he isn't just answering to ESPN anymore. As Mike McFeely, a radio host in Fargo, N.D., wrote this morning, “TMZ.com … has no desire to lick Tiger’s spikes. It doesn’t matter to that crew if he ever talks to them, since he’s never talked to them before.” You won’t see Tiger hosting any official Tour events this year, nor will you hear about him dropping out of tournaments two days before they begin.

The PGA will no longer be subject to the whims of its best player, a shift that will once against empower its commissioner and open the door for the burgeoning fleet of talented young players eager to usurp Tiger’s title as World’s Greatest. Rory McIlroy, Anthony Kim, Adam Scott, Hunter Mahan and Trevor Immelman are approaching Tiger in terms of skill, and now they will have the opportunity to do so in exposure. Congratulations, Mr. Finchem, you have your Tour back.

But getting back to the media, I am noticing an alarming similarity between the reportage of Tiger’s current situation and that of the early days of the steroid scandal. Back then, say, in 2002, after the publication of this SI cover story by Tom Verducci, nearly every baseball writer feigned ignorance to the Woolly Mammoth in the room: That players had been juicing for years and all those writers knew it. First they declared shock and disappointment at these counterfeit icons, but soon enough it became clear that the steroid charade had myriad conspirators – writers, players, general managers, owners and even commissioners.

And now were supposed to believe that Tiger’s alleged litany of mistresses was a secret held to him and him alone? Thus far only 11 women have revealed themselves as Tigresses, but I’ll put plenty of money on his record with women rivaling only Wilt Chamberlain – just like we knew there were hundreds more after the first couple steroid admissions surfaced. And while these actions couldn’t be more different, their relations to the games in which they are associated are equivalent: Tiger’s popularity, which is built on an image of wholesome athletic determination and prowess, is directly tied to – and some would argue responsible for – the economic success of the PGA Tour, just as the influx in steroid use directly resulted in increased home run production, leading to massive revenue surges.

In both cases, someone created a distorted reality that preyed on my vulnerabilities as a sports fan. Of course I wanted to see a million home runs each season. Who wouldn’t buy a product endorsed by the greatest golfer ever, who also happens to be destroying the massive racial barriers the sport once held? It was too easy to justify the indiscretions of Tiger Woods or Ken Caminiti when business was booming and nobody appeared to get hurt in the process.

But to those whose job it is to follow these guys’ every move, are these revelations really that surprising? It took a few years before we turned the lens back on the baseball beat writers, managers and Bud Selig. Can we start blaming the Golf Channel and Tom Rinaldi once the mistress count hits 15? Twenty? These guys must have known the kind of life Tiger led, and if their fear of being blackballed by the most important figure in golf forced them to keep their mouths shut, well, then for the first time in my life, I say thank God for TMZ.

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