The Saturday Night Live Tiger Woods skit that aired this weekend is receiving a lot of criticism.
Here is what Entertainment Weekly had to say about it, “this hypothetical funny take would need to present an actual point of view, a unique thought, or some sharp commentary. This bit suffered from both an ill-conceived problem (Tiger Woods covering up his wife assaulting him) and a total lack of transformation or change. It was a padded stand-up bit, not a fully realized sketch, which makes it really hard to forgive the poor taste of the subject matter.”
Jokes aside, “At least nine women are now romantically linked to the embattled golfer,” according to US Magazine. Whether or not it is right to talk about Wood’s private life, this story is not going away anytime soon.
Should the media leave Woods alone?
My Army brother John (who teaches literature at West Point) sent me this spoof of William Blake last night:
Tiger, Tiger, bleeding bright
In the driveway of the night
What small Swedish hand or wrist
With a three-wood thy head kissed?
What the anger, what the fire
Was so stoked by the Enquirer?
‘Twas there motive, ’twas there goal?
Did you play an extra hole?
Couldst thou not appease her
After bedding a skeezer?
Was your mom of no aid, though
Batt’ling that white tornado?
Were you chased from hearth and home
A golf club aimed at your dome?
Did the instinct come to pass
“My caddy will save my ass”?
When Elin did swing her club
Did you cower like a cub?
Did you know she’d hit a ton
And put you on the green in one?
When the impact made a thud
Wat’ring the lawn with your blood
Did she smile her work to see?
And did the impact make you pee?
And as neighbors heard your snores
Did you dream about your whores?
Complete defeat, is this not true?
Beat you and your caddy, too?
Now as you try to clean up
Have you reread that pre-nup?
Is hush money a small price
For full avoiding Elin’s slice?
Were your sponsors caused great stress
By the words of that waitress?
Or is the deal perm’nent now
With “Nike” markéd on your brow?
Tiger, Tiger, bleeding bright
In the driveway of the night
What small Swedish hand or wrist
With a three-wood thy head kissed?