Tiger Woods: the robot

How many articles have been penned about Tiger Woods throughout his decorated career, referring to him as a “man-of-steel,” an “ironman” or some other term meant to insinuate that his skills are so superhuman that he simply cannot be one of our own?

This is a so-called “man” who does not crack under the pressure of the world’s biggest stages; a man more consistent than Chinese food’s inconsistency; one who seems to act and react as calmly and rationally as a NASA computer in even the most blood-boiling, heart-pounding circumstances. Woods is one of those very few beings on this planet whose athletic gifts are a miracle to witness in person (I know, because I’ve had the amazing fortune of seeing Dwyane Wade score 35 points in Miami one night, but even Wade ain’t Tiger). These athletes transcend their respective sports, not because of huge personalities or because they helped clean up the city they came from with their huge amounts of money (although most usually do). Rather, it’s due to sheer athletic ability. They shut off the “human” button in crunch time and amazingly become robots. LeBron James, Alex Ovechkin, Roger Federer, Peyton Manning, Kevin Martin (believe it), these are all “men-of-steel,” men who are known to shut off the human button.

Up until the past several months, I would not have hesitated for one second to throw Woods into that category. In fact, he would have been my “man-of-steel” poster-boy (for some reason that sounds sexual — it’s not). Woods’ recent press conference, however, along with shifting my opinion on this matter, was one of the most revealing pieces of television I have ever witnessed. Not in terms of what Woods did and with whom he did it with, but revealing in the sense that now we know what Woods’ understanding of real society is and what kind of socialite he is — a completely inept one.

Like I said before, a common trait many of these superhuman athletes possess is the ability to react like a machine in times of ultimate pressure, but Woods’ ability to do so is so much less impressive to me now that I know he simply is a NASA computer, on or off the course. When Woods looked into that camera on Feb. 19, everything about the performance seemed programmed. It was the most horrendous, apathetic, botched apology ever made in public and it made it quite clear that Woods has absolutely no idea how to gauge public opinion and monitor himself accordingly.

When the original scandal broke out months back, Woods and his publicity team were ridiculed for not making some sort of statement right away (as it can be a deadly mistake to allow people to create stories on their own). However, now I see why his team advised him to stay quiet; they hadn’t written up a program for their computer to spit out yet. I’m sure anyone who knows Woods understands how incapable he would have been at gaining people’s respect with an improvised statement from his own mind or a real interview, with no pre-meditation. I won’t even mention the actual words Woods spoke and the idiotic excuses he came up with for why he did what he did, because the damage was already done as soon as he looked into the camera with that opposite-of-genuine glare. He is a complete robot. When he went to hug his mother after he spoke in an attempt to maybe show some sign of emotion, I was worried about the amount of radiation she must have contracted.

Countless athletes have gotten into trouble for having extra-marital affairs before, but unlike Woods, they’ve shown humility afterwards and people forgive and move on. Remember when Kobe cried his eyes out beside his wife at the podium after his lawsuit and talked about the embarrassment he put his family through? Well, Woods stood there like the stone column that holds up my neighbour’s garage, and asked the press to quit bothering his children. Forget humility, he did not even exhibit humanity. This is why we were able to forgive Kobe and several others, but not Woods. We care that Kobe cares, and we care that Woods seems to not.

So just remember, when people list athletes who fit into the category “man-of-steel,” or superhuman, there should be an asterisk beside Woods’ name. He has no human button to shut off when he steps on the course; even then, he thinks solely with his club.