Wednesday, December 2, 2009
The Tiger Woods publicists, the best apologists money can buy, have had a full week to craft an apology. And given the challenges, it's not bad. I see four points they hope to convey: Family man, really sorry, go away, let’s all hate the media.
I think they waited this long, praying for some international calamity to share the heat. But no mushroom cloud bloomed over Omaha. Just more disclosures on their own side, all the more tantalizing because they’re coming out drip by drip. Better a big bang; get it over with at once.
So the best spinners in all the land desperately grabbed this linchpin: “I let my family down.” A phrase typically employed to apologize for more modest disappointments, as in, we didn’t make it to Disneyworld this year, or I missed my son’s Pop Warner Football game, or my daughter will have to go to junior college.
Now we learn this very elastic phrase, “I let my family down,” stretches to include fucking a succession of cocktail waitresses over a number of years while the wife was home with the children.
The apology goes on to say:
“I am dealing with my behavior and personal failings behind closed doors with my family.”
How’d you like to go to that Christmas party? I’ll just leave my fruitcake by the mailbox.
On balance, and on the other hand, and to be fair, when I think of some of my transgressions in this life, and there have been some doozies -- really, I cover my head with a veil just at the very thought of -- oh, never mind. What was my point? Oh yes, when faced with the fall-out, there was no elegant phrase at my disposal. No team to buck me up and argue my virtues, as in, “Sure, that happened, but she once rescued a kitten.”
Still, membership in the club of unfamy has its privileges. I could always leave town for awhile. Hole up and hide out. Because, other than those involved, the rest of the world was a safe haven. No one else really cared. Thankfully, no one else thought it any of their business.
Labels: Tiger Woods