What’s Bad for Tiger Ain’t Bad for the Rest of Us

The golf industry is in total shock — its number 1 meal-ticket is now in self-imposed exile. TV viewership is set to fall 50 percent or more, sponsors are going to be bailing out, prize money will be headed down-hill, endorsements are going to dry up. We’re not just talking industry recession here, the golf industry is heading to its own Armageddon. They’ll be going back to wooden shafts any day now.
But hold on. Tiger’s demise is not bad for golfers. Golfers are doing just fine. We’re doing better than fine. In fact, I’ve never done better in my life. I mean who were all these skanky, hot women fucking? Not Tom Brady, not Derek Jeter, not LeBron James. They were fucking a fucking golfer! Who woulda thunk it?
I now carry my golf bag everywhere I go. I take it to work, I take it to bars, I take it to my spinning class and when I’m driving, my golf bag sits prominently on the back seat of my Porsche so everyone can see it. I have a new bumper sticker on my car: “Real Golfer Inside.” I want women to know I play golf. I want them to know I know how to use my putter. I want them to inspect my long shaft. I want them to dream about getting into bed with a guy wearing spikes.
Hey, in the last two weeks I’ve had so many women hitting on me I’ve had to set an artificial limit: No women under 20. I mean, I’m 66-years-old and it just doesn’t look right having a 19-year-old hottie groping for my putter.
I even have Tiger to thank for a potential new career in film. I have just been recruited to play a caddy in the new film about Tiger: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Cocktail Waitress. I’m the guy who is supposed to get drinks for Tiger and his hot ladies and then clean up the mess afterwards.
Plus Tiger leaving the Tour means there’s one more opening on the PGA Tour. One of us is going to get it.
These are tough times for Tiger — and my heart goes out to the poor schmuck — but these are boom times for the rest of us golfers. All you got to know is how to swing your shaft. I mean, this is our time!
And next time you see Elin, let her know I’m available. But she’ll have to get in line.