Tiger: A Defense

Tiger Woods has done a lot of apologizing recently. First he had a press conference and basically said, “Sorry, everybody, I shouldn’t have had sex with all those porn stars.” Then he gave a five-minute interview about his sex addiction and the long road to recovery. He talked about inpatient treatment, outpatient treatment (wonder if this is analogous to intercourse and outercourse) and getting back to his Buddhist roots, which presumably does not involve graphic sexting. People seem to be truly affected by Tiger Woods’ infidelity and angry with him for cheating on his wife.

But wait a minute, y’all. Tiger was addicted to sex. He absolutely had to have it; he couldn’t live without it. Do you expect alcoholics to apologize every time they pour themselves a drink? No—if they didn’t, they’d start shaking and vomiting and behaving in all sorts of socially unacceptable ways. You think those people who get addicted to meth are happy about the open sores all over their face? Tiger killed two bottles of Vicodin on the same day his wife beat his face in with a nine-iron, but you didn’t hear Skip Bayless having an aneurysm over his addiction to painkillers.

I feel like this is because many Americans aren’t ready to accept sex as a legitimate addiction. The space next to this is certainly a little more enlightened, but I know doubters exist. “There’s no physiological necessity for sex on a regular basis,” they might say, using my own personal experience as a healthy, somewhat functional human being as evidence. “Claiming to be an addict is just another way to avoid accountability.”

These people, aside from being total d—s, are either hypocritical or just jealous. Accountability isn’t good for anyone. You want to be the guy who calls Tiger’s sex addiction a farce? Fine—I’ll be the guy who doubts whatever story you tell when you make more money than God and want to reward yourself with an implanted stripper or 12.