What a joke. The Tiger Woods "press conference" last week, that is.
I loved the headline in the Toronto Sun: "No Balls."
For one thing, I use the term "press conference" lightly because Tiger, true to his Teflon, corporate nature, invited only select members of the media and took no questions. It was strictly lob ball.
If he was indeed serious about coming clean -- no pun intended -- he would've face the music in a full-on, no-holds-barred presser.
Instead, the so-called public apology was contrived and contoured to make Tiger look as worthy of our sympathy as possible. (Did you wipe a tear from your cheek when he kissed his mommy? Or, puke.)
What a joke.
I don't give a rat's butt how many porn stars, waitresses or exotic dancers Woods has had an affair with. Who cares, besides his family and, of course, the all-important sponsors?
But these sappy and, really, stupid public apologies are just plain crap.
Especially when they're phony.
Poor Tiger. Boo-hoo.
Crying all the way to the bank.