Dear Tiger:

 First, let me acknowledge that, like many of your fans, I owe you a heck of a  lot. In fact, according to the book “Follow the Roar” I might not even be alive if it weren’t for having your inspiring play to look forward to during some very dark days in the mid 90’s after my mother was killed in a car accident.

 While that might be an exaggeration, there is no doubt that I have invested an awful lot of hope for humanity in you. I don’t think much of human beings and your awe-inspiring performances on the course and your flawless handling of unprecedented challenges off of it made me believe that maybe, just maybe, our species wasn’t a total waste of complex DNA.  

 In return for all of the amazing moments of exhilaration that you have given to me and millions of your other devoted fans, I have spent much of the last fourteen years completely dedicated to you. I have exhausted an uncountable number of hours watching and rooting for you and have put my personal credibility on the line (and probably lost jobs because of it) to create the largely misunderstood First Church of Tiger Woods and www.TigerWoodsIsGod.com.

 While I have been mocked by many (including many in my own family), I have never questioned or regretted my loyalty to you because I was so certain that you were the unique celebrity who actually deserved the lofty status of role model and even hero. In an era when an unsoiled celebrity was as rare as you shooting 80, you were the exception that gave us all some hope. I even convinced myself that you were poised to one day be the conservative/libertarian version of Obama and would eventually be President of the United States once you were done doing more important things like breaking all of Jack Nicklaus’ records.

 Now, after your “accident” early this morning I feel like a complete fool. I have apparently been duped and I am angry. Real angry.

 Tiger, it seems pretty clear now that you have been lying quite a bit.

 When the National Enquirer story came out saying you have been playing a “course” to which you didn’t have membership, I didn’t believe it (even though this was the type of story that the Enquirer is usually pretty good at; just ask John Edwards). Even if you were weak enough to cheat on the mother of your children, the “party girl” they connected you to seemed way too slutty and risky for you to ever be stupid enough to shack up with. I figured, at the very least, you had earned the benefit of the doubt.

 The moment that I heard about your “accident,” that doubt came to an instant end. While of course I was concerned for your health (I have always feared that, like many other prodigies in history, you would be taken from us far too early), once it was clear you were okay, the true magnitude of your betrayal began to really sink in.

 It was immediately obvious that the story that was being told in the media made no sense at all. The remarkably long delay from the time of the “accident” and any statement from your people meant that you were either dying/dead, or they were scrambling for a cover story. The one they apparently came up with didn’t even pass the laugh test (how much are you paying these people?!).

 Yes, I know, your many friends in the pathetic sports/golf media pretended to believe the tale that you somehow crashed your car into a fire hydrant for no apparent reason at 2:30 am and that the back window of the SUV was smashed because your wife Elin used a golf club to heroically save you from the crash (which was so minor that the airbags didn’t even deploy!). How they kept a straight face while reporting this bit of obvious fiction is almost remarkable as your epic 2008 U.S.  Open victory.  

 As of this writing, the media, amazingly, is largely still covering for you. But you should know that this will quickly change. The real story here is far too juicy for these gutless jackals who live off your coattails to possibly resist once someone finally breaks the damn with the truth.

 It is obvious that Elin was the one who created your injuries and who caused the car accident. She did not use the golf club to save you. She clearly did so out of anger over your infidelity (my fiance is now such a fan of her that she is considering selling “Team Elin” T-shirts at your tournament next week).

Your blatant lies are beneath who I thought you were and maybe the most embarrassing element of this whole mess you have created.  Depending on what you told the police, they may even be illegal.

 Legal issues might not even be the worst consequence you have to face for all of this. Wait until your mother gets a hold of you. She won’t need to be wielding a golf club to make you wish you been born without a penis.

 I still can’t believe that I am even writing about any of this. The only thing I was more certain about than your place as the greatest golfer of all time was that you would never embarrass your fans. Now you are insulting us with a humiliating series of lies. You are now no better than any other spoiled superstar who has been corrupted by the fame and fortune. I allowed myself to think you were different. Apparently, I was very wrong.

 I don’t want to believe any of this, but at this point you leave me with no other choice. If I am missing something here please give it up. Now.

 You may be tempted to try and keep the charade going and see if maybe a certain percentage of your fans, blinded by love, will still see your legacy as unsoiled, and that the media won’t finally turn on you. Please don’t take this path. Please be the man who defied all human limitations at Torrey Pines and not the broken coward who concocted a pathetic cover story while lying in his driveway bleeding from injuries apparently suffered from the hands of a scorned wife.

 Please call a press conference first thing Monday morning. Please take any and all questions. Please tell the full truth. Please don’t cry fake tears. Please don’t pull out of your tournament next week. Please don’t drag Elin and your kids there with you. Please apologize for your lies. Please promise to never let anything like this happen again. Please really mean it.

 I know that I am holding you to a higher standard than anyone else in sports, but, being rather stubborn and still in a bit of shock, I would still like to think you are worthy of such treatment. I was wrong once and that will be tough enough to recover from. Please don’t prove me wrong again.