I don’t have much of a clue about life, the universe or anything that matters, but one thing I do know is that most athletes are cheaters. It doesn’t matter if they’re men or women, in the professional ranks, college or high school, to paraphrase Chris Rock, an athlete is as faithful as his or her options. Naturally, the ease (and therefore likelihood) of infidelity is often directly proportional to the athlete’s status, skill and renown.
So when news broke about Tiger Wood’s International Cooze Tour, my only surprise was that people were, well, surprised. The shocked were divided in two camps:
- "How could he cheat on Elin Nordegren? She’s a goddess!" Yeah, she is. But show me one woman that no man would think of cheating on and I’ll show you twenty that only the strongest of men could resist.
- "I don’t understand. He was such a focused family man!" No, he’s a billionaire, larger than life athlete whose best friends are Michael Jordan and Charles "Around the Corner for a Blow Job" Barkley, two men whose four interests are money, sex, glory and the annihilation of anyone who interferes with that short list.
Unless you were a child or a naive fool, learning these things about Tiger shouldn’t have been shocking. The only real surprise here is this:
These are some nasty bitches.
When a man has the ability to not only sleep with 98% of the women on the planet but also be permitted to have degrading, dehumanizing sex with 80% of them, why opt for the paper baggers? And this isn’t just a problem that afflicts Tiger. A lot of men cheat with uglier and/or skankier women than they have at home. Maybe it’s self-esteem, maybe ugly girls are freakier and easier, maybe these guys are addicts who don’t mind dipping their puckers into toxic, cavernous wastelands. I really can’t say. The one thing I know for sure is if a man disgraced me with random infidelities, the broads on his ho stroll had better be top shelf tail whose natural beauty would cause even me to nod begrudgingly with understanding. It’s the least that cheating bastard could do.
At least then I could rationalise his behaviour. At least then, I could salve my wounds with the false belief that his fidelity was only compromised because a seductive temptress and her hypnotic vagina got in the way. But I tell you this. If he dared rub salt in my wounds by having sex with a woman whose face looks like a foot (see 3rd row, middle), I wouldn’t take it out on him with an ironic 6 iron. I’d have a fucking weapon. You want to disrespect me with other women? Fine. Pack your bags and go. But if those women are gutter sluts who look like they just got bukkaked at a truck stop, I’m gonna fuck you up and then call a couple of hard, pipe-hitting fellas to go to work on you with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. What’s that? I don’t need to get medieval? Oh, well you must be confused. You see, this is what happens when you cheat with a bitch who looks like a fried running shoe.
So a much delayed bravo to Elin Nordegren for taking action. Maybe next time, she’ll knock Tiger out on her own instead of having a tree and a fire hydrant handle the end game for her.