What better time to realize the advancement of the utopian post-racial society than when Tiger Woods, the intra-racial/interracial ambassador, finds himself in the midst of the Scandal-du-Jour? We have a protocol for when famous black men are unfaithful: laugh at the brute's untamed libido; prey on his eventual downfall. We've even got standard operating procedure for white male politicians: wag a taut finger before ushering him quietly out of view. To be fair, public officials often get the benefit of the Eliot Spitzer treatment, which comes with a berated, tawdry, headline-hungry mistress to absolve any trespasses.
Outlets like TMZ, Yahoo and Bossip have gone full crank to expose Tiger's infidelities, realizing that once he admitted to it, interest would wane considerably. But his adoring public has delighted in seeing Tiger's wild side, not only for the fact that the race-neutral athlete must now live among the genetically usual, but rather because he has fallen back into archetypes we recognize, philandering athlete being one. There's a blurry continuum between O.J. and Kobe and Tiger; and though the last has the highest public approval, he's also peering at the longest descent. Before he goes into the muck of sexual politics, marital compensation and the Faithful Good Father publicity tour, let's take one last swing at the boy who made all the Country Club-faring white women scream for a decade.
What does it mean, that after delivering her fiercest "ghetto" attack, that Elin Nordegren Woods hasn't been subjected to Chris Brown reprobation? Because we can't see the bite marks she left, she must be angel incarnate; the pure harbinger of love in this Heathcliff's tale. There's no question Tiger booked it when things got violent, unsure his six-foot frame could withstand the storm of the raging white woman uncovered from bridal veil. Shit got real. Homeboy dipped. This is an important note because, despite his achievements and sterling reputation, he still ended on the wrong side of propriety. Where racial unanimity helped him before, allowed him to claim several heritages at once, it's belly flopped him in the community pool where he's free to frolic with similarly soiled Negro children. It must be humbling to be both White/Asian at his finest hour and Samuel L. Jackson ebony at his lowest.
Somewhere, in a Hater's Ball world, Rihanna's waiting for Tiger to come out against domestic violence touting a nationwide book tour and race-neutral lapel ribbon for his kindred souls.
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