If I attempted to wax poetic about how euphoric it is to see the annual migration
of yellow dusted bugs, deliberately creeping along I-20 West, toward Augusta, it
would read like the clunk of a mashie against a tree root that has migrated from
beneath the magnolias…See what I mean? I best leave my Master’s prose for
Monday, after the sorting of the tourney’s nuts and bolts…Ahh, I mean azaleas
from the pimiento cheese…

One thought, though…I hope I’m talking about a Tiger resurgence and not
another Major’s regression…I know some, do not share my concern. I was
chatting yesterday with a retired millionaire, and he said, ‘He no longer can root
for Tiger, because of his transgressions’…I understand… but, I also consider the
consequences of Tiger’s abnormal upbringing.

This incredible competitor, who is Tiger Woods, was never a ‘kid’…What was he
4, 5, or, 6 when he first swung a club on the Johnny Carson Show..? He was a
pheenom..! His every move was predetermined and cultivated by his dad, Earl
Woods…Perhaps, I’m being an overly analytical and sentimental knucklehead, but
I thought it telling that Tiger’s dalliances occurred after the passing of his father..?
Could it not be, that for the very first time in his life, Tiger could make his own
decisions and act on his own, without his alter-conscience ringing him up, and
asking what he had done that day..?

Think about it… How many of us made the right decision, the very first time we
tried..?

I’m pullin’ for Tiger…He is the Bobby Jones, the Bambino, the Galloping Ghost of
our time…!

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