Tiger Woods: What Might Have Been

Tiger Woods is the greatest athlete of this era and maybe the greatest athlete ever. That little detail has been lost amid the news that he's a philanderer, a terrible father, and quite possibly the second-most oversexed man on the planet after Travis Henry.

But those character flaws, when coupled with his on-course accomplishments, are what set him apart from your run-of-the-mill superstar athlete. Most people can't juggle one mistress without it affecting every other aspect of their life. Tiger not only played golf at a high level, he dominated. And at last count he had 14 mistresses.

Infidelity is as much a part of professional sports as the games; when you give married guys in their 20s and 30s millions of dollars and a lot of downtime, sex with people other than their wives is bound to happen. I'm not condoning it, just being honest. Chris Rock was right: "Men are as faithful as their options."

The solution, of course, is to not get married in the first place. It's one thing for some dude humping a minimum-wage 9-to-5 job to tie the knot with his high-school sweetheart -- chances are supermodels won't be beating down his door anytime soon. It's something else entirely for professional athletes in their physical and sexual prime, flushed with more cash than they can spend, thinking marriage is a good idea.

I never got that. Ever.

There are exceptions -- players who have avoided temptation, stayed faithful, and lived happily ever after. Kurt Warner comes to mind. He met his wife Brenda in college, they wed in 1997, and she has been by his side for most of his NFL career. But here's the difference: she knew Kurt when he was stocking shelves at a grocery store. And worse: when he was an Arena Football League quarterback. Being poor does one of two things to a relationship: it tears it apart or it strengthens it. In the Warner's case, it was the latter. Plus, Brenda's a Marine Corps vet. If Kurt got out of line she'd just kick his ass.

For everybody else, though, it's a disaster. Kobe Bryant, Michael Jordan, Shaquille O'Neal, Alex Rodriguez -- all married at an early age and all part of messy scandals.

Leave it to Clinton Portis to put it all in perspective. When discussing Tiger on John Thompson's radio show he offered this: "But I say don't get married, if it's not out of your system. I'm not married. You know, I would love to be able to say, I'm a perfect guy, yeah, baby, yeah. I'm not. You know, I'm gonna have temptations. If I find the temptation worth fulfilling, I'm gonna fulfill my temptation. If that ends up getting me in trouble at times, you know, I'll deal with it then. But right now I'm not married, and I'm 28 years old, and I'm gonna enjoy my life."

And the public doesn't have a problem with a 28-year-old Portis enjoying his life. Because he's not married, doesn't have any kids, and he's 28. That's what he's supposed to do.

Too bad Dolemite Jenkins wasn't around to talk Tiger out of proposing. He could have saved him a lot of trouble. Maybe Woods really did think that Elin was his soulmate. Or maybe he thought getting hitched would complete his wholesome image and attract more endorsement dollars. Whatever the reason, he did it. And now it's blown up in his face. That's what happens when your girlfriends number in the teens and can't line up to tell their stories on The Today Show fast enough.

But here's the thing: for nearly five years Tiger managed to juggle a stable of humpin' buddies across the country, fulfill his husbandly duties, and most impressive: dominate golf like no one in the 500-year history of the sport.
Think about that for a minute. Since turning pro in 1996, Tiger has amassed 71 PGA Tour wins (third all-time), 14 majors (second behind Jack's 18), and has spent virtually all of his career as the No. 1 ranked player in the world. He had the rest of the tour not only playing for second place, but admitting that they were playing for second place. He singlehandedly made golf cool, made every tournament he entered must-see, and made a lot of guys a lot of money. And he did it all with a million other things on his mind.

Essentially, golf was his part-time job and he was better at it than anybody who has ever played. Imagine what we would be talking about now if he really concentrated on his game. Thirty majors? Two-hundred professional wins? A career scoring average in the low 60s? I'm not kidding. Yes, you could point out that part-timers don't outwork the competition on the practice range, as swing coach Hank Haney often attests. Or as his father Earl made clear early on, Tiger's mental game was what would make him special.

Fine. Even if his super powers extend to his ability to compartmentalize his personal life from his professional life, you're not going to convince me that keeping up with scores of women -- in addition to his wife -- didn't take a toll on his job performance. It's too much drama, and I wouldn't be surprised if his unspectacular 2009 season had more to do with his various ladyfriends than his reconstructed knee. Singular focus comes in handy when you're trying to compartmentalize pain. It's less effective at temporarily redirecting your attention from the 22-year-old cocktail waitress who wants to sex you up after the round as you're trying to make an eight-footer to save par. We're just not wired that way.

That said, despite distractions that would paralyze most humans, Woods regularly lapped the field. If you're willing to overlook the fact that he's a dirtbag, it's one of the most impressive feats in sports. And probably one of the most underrated. (Seriously, nobody's talking up this angle because we're all too consumed with which trollop will come forward next, whether Tiger is moving to Sweden, and if Steve Williams will administer a Rick Reilly beatdown if given the chance.) I just can't help but wonder what Tiger's career might look like if he never got married.