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I don't know golf, but I do know people, people. Whether Tiger Woods wins the Masters this week is not a golf question - I'm sure he has enough muscle memory from thousands of hours of tournament play to be able to plonk himself in the middle of any competition without much practice and still be competitive - this is a question of physiology and psychology.

Tiger is a sick man. I know people with this sickness. A very close friend of mine, let's call him 'Ed' (for the sake of an ultra-tenuous blog title) suffers from the same affliction. Ed just can't function without inordinate amounts of sex. For some people a cup of coffee is enough to help them jump start their morning, for others, like Tiger and Ed, they at least need a hand job. Without it they become aggravated, tetchy, irritable. They simply can't concentrate or focus until they have splashed their magic sap over a skanky ho.

As this current controversy has progressed many have wondered just how many majors young Tiger could have won without all the peripheral shagging and the misogyny. I would argue not half as many. The shagging is his release. The calling of women bitches, a catharsis. It's his means of liberating himself from the immense pressures of his professional life. It's what allows him to maintain such a high level of performance. In essence, beneath his painstakingly engineered persona, he is more beast than man.

Tiger is now being asked once again to scale those same heights, to reach those same levels of performance and deal with his sickness all at the same time, but while being denied his medicine. Impossible. Without his treatment he is divorced from the beast and cannot be expected to function at a level that will allow him to win this tournament.

When push comes to shove this weekend, when Tiger must sink a crucial putt, he will not be focused on negotiating the undulations of the Augusta green in question. Instead he will be regressing back to the night when Mimi Gonzalez, the Puerto Rican cocktail waitress from Caesars Palace, brought him to a thunderous climax by sucking a golf ball out of his anus with all the power of a Dyson vacuum cleaner.


I can't be backing Tiger Woods at the current prices. His price of 5/1 is not value because he's usually 2/1, that just means he has been outrageously short all those other times. Apart from the fact that he has failed to win it the past five years anyway - and while he was making those previous five attempts he wasn't in the middle of one of the biggest sporting media storms of all time - he is simply not fit.

If 5/1 is correct then this year has to be the ONE. But if he couldn't win it when he was compos mentis, I don't see how he can be expected to succeed this time around.

I can only see him succeeding here if he has found a way of getting some treatment on the sly. But would he risk this given the current state of affairs with his affairs? Ed would, but he doesn't have billions of monies riding on a repaired reputation. So the question is would Tiger? I would not bet on it people, not at 5/1 anyways.

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Labels: Betting, Nonsense, Sport