A bit of Sunday Times love-in here…
The public and press demanded he be abject, insisted he prostrate himself before the nation, and, Lordy, did the poor man keep his side of the deal. “I have let you down,” he said repeatedly. “I have bitterly disappointed all of you.” The only person you might argue he had let down was his wife, and she wasn’t even in the room. How has he let you down, or me? I suppose you could argue that he might disappoint golfing fans by missing a short putt on the 18th, but by having sex with some women? What business is it of yours?
The jury — the world — was then left to debate whether he’d been “sincere” or not. The debate is still going on. There was a page of hyperbolic drivel in one of our national broadsheet newspapers yesterday in which the writer commented on the telecast: “ . . . but a small voice kept asking if every word and gesture had been arranged”. Did it really, mate? That’ll be the little Hitler nestled inside your skull, then. Golfers, porn stars, kebab shop owners, insurance loss adjusters were all solicited for their opinions: was he sincere; did he mean it, the grovelling apology? Or should we make the bugger grovel some more? Nick Faldo thought he had been sincere. Thanks, Nick. A fellow professional, Ben Crane, quoted from Jesus. A woman with enormous breasts in the New York Daily News said she didn’t believe Tiger for a minute.
Liddle’s taken a kicking the past few weeks. The guys over at Liberal Conspiracy have taken great delight in scuppering his chances of taking over at The Independent. I don’t particularly like Liddle, but I do think sometimes he’s spot on, like here.
The thing is some dudes – especially those with a god-complex and a fuckton of money – will screw around. Liddle’s done it, many of us have done it. There are a lot of reasons for not scuttling a waitress, but when she’s got her hams in your face, they never seem that important.
Woods doesn’t owe us an apology. He should save all his apologies for his wife who he’s humiliated on a global scale.
In every city on the planet, every night of the week, husbands and wives are sneaking off to bang some co-worker or neighbour. Just because Tiger happens to play a tidy round of golf and be the international face of an investment bank, doesn’t mean he won’t get the giggity every time a hot chick gives him the come on.
Liddle is bang on the money. I actually think he would have made for an interesting editor of the Indi.
*Sounds like a quaint little English Village, no?