True to my calling, I tuned in and watched the strange Tiger Wood so called press conference, only the Press were in a room a mile away, no questions allowed and the three hacks allowed in, instructed not to ask questions but mandated by the organisers to pool their copy (see earlier Duckhouse item with the actual memo sent out to news organisations). The venue cloaked in dark blue and set out like a chapel of rest, the Jerry Springer style line up in the front row. A music stand style lecturn (podium) and the great man arrives.
Puts a tiny notbook on the podium then starts to READ the statement - I don't believe for one moment he wrote it. The delivery at around 70 words a minute, slow and laboured. News reading speed is normally around 126 words a minute.
His eyes from time extended on coiled springs, looking directly at the camera (Roger Rabbit Toon style) everytime the word 'sorry' came up.
The content of this 15 minute monologue need not concern us. Simply Tiger gets woods more than most males, blames it on a woody mixture of money and fame. A state of nirvana for the majority of the World red-blooded male population however unlike sex sleasebag John Terry, didn't get a mistress pregnant or if he did managed to keep that under wraps.
This strange theatrical presentation then went into a potted 'soap' mode. Tiger still reading asked us all NOT TO BLAME HIS WIFE!!! No domestic violence ever in his house, but we all would have given the poor lass a whole bag of golfclubs to crack over his head... crashing the car (auto) was probably not a good idea but shit happens. The big question remained unanswered, when would Woody retun to professional golf? When the therapy ends of course! But even Tiger didn't know.
All in all, Letterman made a better job of it and got a few laughs. From an incdent management point of view the strategy backfired as by excluding hacks and not answering questions, even planted ones, the file remains open. The story live and has legs.
Tiger if he was wishing to draw a line in the sand has simply wound up the media machine and raised a whole raft of new questions based on the simple journalistic mantra of Who? What? Why? Where ? and When? Questions to be raised eachy time Tiger does a presser. None of these were satisfied.
Those who advised him to go down this route should be ashamed. Tiger for all his golfing prowess, money and fame came over as just another moth in the spotlight, he flew too close, lost his wings. On the other hand preferable to Mrs Woods performing reconstructive surgery on her wayward husbands' crown jewels Leaving him no option but to call for new balls and his niblic repaired.
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