Commentary: Imagine Shamed Tiger Woods Hiding Out In Madison

By Ellen Foley Special To Channel 3000

Tiger Woods looked to me like a prisoner of war in his stunning apology speech last week. He robotically mouthed the well-practiced and sometimes halting script that smacked of one of our enemies’ propaganda videos featuring a captured soldier. (Watch stunning apology speech here)

While I believe Tiger was trying to convince himself and the world that he was sorry for his admittedly kinky sexcapades, his contrived “statement” that was oddly timed to allow for his play in the upcoming major golf tourneys came off as somewhat less than sincere.

I am not without compassion for Tiger Woods. The one sentence from his speech that resonated with me was this reference to his angry and reportedly humiliated wife, Elin Nordegren:

“As Elin pointed out to me, my real apology will not come in the form of words. It will come from my behavior over time,” he said.

The recent Tiger profile in Vanity Fair written by former colleague Buzz Bissinger makes that promise sound impossible. Bissinger describes the professional golfer as a skilled shapeshifter who conformed to the gentlemen’s game by creating a superhuman persona built on very thin ice. Tiger’s “abnormal” life of hidden sexual dalliances by night was seamlessly blended with public cuddling with his beautiful wife and toddler daughter in the championship circle by day. Tiger may need more than a few additional weeks in sexual addiction treatment to work this out.

And this, Madison, is where we come in. These folks need a family-friendly place in which even people with extraordinary world-class talent can come to grips with the fact that we all put our pants on one leg at a time.

In this spirit, I contacted the Madison Witness Protection Program (MWPP) to request that Tiger Woods and his family be secretly relocated for one year to Madison under the names of Elin and Eldrick DuBois. MWPP has ruled that it?s time that Mr. Woods drop the haughty moniker “Tiger” and go back to his birth name of Eldrick. MWPP’s Landmarks Commission after 15 meetings insisted that the surname Woods be changed to honor the area’s French ancestry, thus DuBois.

Tiger aka Eldrick would donate $40 million to the city of Madison, from which $39 million would be used to keep the location of the family a secret from the supermarket tabloid press. The remaining $1 million would be used to buy the family a three-bedroom, 1 ½ bathroom house with a one-car garage in the Dudgeon-Monroe neighborhood where many of our superhuman intellects in the sciences, the arts and humanities live.

Elin DuBois would be invited to join the very best book clubs in town and Eldrick DuBois would work as an assistant golf coach for the prize-winning Madison College golf team. The children would enroll in Madison’s finest preschool programs so that Elin could confer with area angel investor groups now that she apparently has some cash to spread around.

Area luminaries with international reputations could invite the DuBois family over for potluck backyard barbecues before the skeeters arrive and share a blanket with them at the Concerts on the Square. MWPP would assign someone to invite the family for the week to a cabin up north and drive them to LaCrosse to see the fall colors along the river.

The DuBois family would buy their Christmas tree from the local Boy Scout troop and Eldrick could reacquaint himself with his Buddhist roots (also mentioned in his speech) at the new Deer Park Buddhist Center in Oregon.

After the neighborhood Super Bowl Party in 2011, the DuBois family would decide whether to return to their respective mansions in their Florida gated community or stay in Madison. By that time, the DuBois family saga would be old news and they could go back to their former names should they choose.

I can’t think of a better place for Eldrick to demonstrate to his wife that he really is sorry for straying. He would have ample opportunity to focus for one year on fathering and learning how to be a good husband.

And Elin, a native of Sweden, knows what we all know: If the winter here teaches one anything, it’s that even superstars need to be good neighbors because when the days grow short and the skies dump two feet of snow, you can?t buy the pleasant fellowship that comes with the sport of “survival” shoveling and the delicious post-shoveling reward of a tasty hot dish, the kind that comes in a glass pan and not the kind sent via a tarted-up text message.