For all of the Tiger idolaters out there, it must have been like finding out that ice cream sundaes give you gonorrhea.
I covered Tiger winning his 14 professional majors, but I can’t say I know him. I knew the smile he put on for TV. I knew the orchestrated remarks he granted us in his press-room interviews. I knew the air he punched when another outrageous putt went in the cup. That’s it.
I once made an effort to get to know the old silicone collector. Tried to arrange dinners with him for a little Q&A, on or off the record, his choice. But the closest I ever got was this word from his agent: “We have nothing to gain.”
Now it’s too late.
Reason #9876 Dan Jenkins is the best to ever write about the game.