Sideline Satire

For shame, sir. For shame.

Lost in last week’s Tiger Woods oversaturated media circus (ignore last week’s column) was this tidbit from NBA commissioner David Stern, as to told Sports Illustrated’s Ian Thomsen: Women might play in the NBA in ten years.

David Stern, you are a horse’s ass. Yes, I said it.

Your exact words: “I don’t want to get into all kinds of arguments with players and coaches about the likelihood. But I really think it’s a good possibility.”

No, it’s not. So stop saying it.

Wimpy, wimpy wimpy

This is yet another example of the wussification of America, Mr. Stern being a prime example. The sane answer would be, “Why, no, that’s a quite terrible idea.” Instead, he gave the politically correct answer.

I understand why Stern said it. If he’s honest, people will say he’s sexist, because anything men can do, women can do just as well blah, blah, blah shut up already. Here’s the ugly truth: Men are better at some things than women, and women are better at some things then men. Why is it so hard to acknowledge that?

For example, I’m not going to sit here and write that I’m better at reading all the Twilight books, then going to the movie and screaming when that one guy takes his shirt off. Obviously, women are way better at that.  Conversely, men are better at not caring at all about Twilight and pretending not to know the name of that one guy in the movie who takes his shirt off when they totally do know.

The same goes for basketball. Sure, a woman might be as skilled as her NBA counterpart. But she won’t be as tall and she definitely won’t be as strong. The biggest wuss in the NBA (I’m looking at you Anderson Varajao) would swat aside the best women players in the world like they were groupies in the lobby of the team hotel. Plus, there’s no way a woman would be able to have as many kids out of wedlock as an NBA player.

Explain yourself

Change is supposed to be for the better. How would adding women to the NBA make it better? Would women only be allowed to guard other women? We’ve tried that already — it’s called the WNBA, and it has yet to turn a profit. Mixed doubles in tennis? Nobody cares.

In the history of basketball, there has been one successful instance of a woman playing on a men’s team. Her name was Lynette Woodard, and she made history as the first female member … of the Harlem Globetrotters.

But here’s the difference: THE HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS AREN’T A REAL TEAM.

It’s time to get real, Mr. Stern. Yes, some will say you’re sexist. But isn’t that better than being a horse’s ass? Stomp your hoof one time for yes, two times for no.

A man is only as faithful as his options.

It’s a line from Chris Rock, and far too many of us live up to it far too often. Tiger Woods is no different. This moment was almost inevitable, really.

Strange goings-on

On Friday, Woods was taken to the hospital after an accident in his front of his home. His Cadillac Escalade hit a fire hydrant, then a tree. None of the car’s airbags went off, which means either the collision was low-speed or Cadillac has some explaining to do. Yet when the police showed up, Woods was laying in the street, semi-conscious, with cuts on his face.

It was also 2:30 a.m.

I know; perfectly reasonable explanation. But trust me, folks, my extensive training as a journalist told me there was more to this story. See, two days earlier, the most revered investigative journalism periodical in America (OK, it was The Enquirer), reported Tiger was romping around with a bar hostess (impress-your-friends fact: her fiance died in the World Trade Center attacks). Plus, the police reported Woods’ wife, Elin Nordegren, helped free her husband after the accident by smashing out the back windows of the car with a golf club.

Tiger declined to talk to the police and said in a statement he considered the matter closed. And I’m sure he believed that would be the case. Besides being super famous for playing golf, Woods is also super famous for revealing almost nothing about his private life.

In the money

But here’s the thing about having options: Those options (for example, a 21-year-old cocktail waitress), might not have the same agenda as you. They might not be a billionaire from playing golf. They might consider taking $150,000 from Us Weekly to tell the world about your affair with her, text messages and voicemails included.

I don’t judge Tiger. Being a blogger, I know what it’s like to have thousands of beautiful women throwing themselves at you. So how I know how options can distract your mind. Too many choices make it much harder to decide, like a Cheesecake Factory menu; when you finally choose it’s not nearly as good as advertised, plus the next day it burns when you pee (don’t say I didn’t warn you about the deep-fried macaroni).

I’ve read and heard people put down Woods’ two alleged mistresses, wondering why he would go for chicks who worked in bars. Obviously, the people saying that are women. Need I remind you Tiger married the nanny of his golfing buddy? No, she was not a model, a myth that too many in the media perpetuate. That’s like saying Khloe Kardashian is now a legitimate actress because she married Lamar Odom. And no, acting like you’re in love with a guy just because he’s rich doesn’t count as acting.

Any guy knows that if a woman is hot enough — and sometimes even if she’s not — it doesn’t matter because, well, just look at her, dummy. If a man tells you he won’t date a hot girl because she has a low-paying job, that man is Adam Lambert. Or perhaps gay.

Winter in the Woods house

Woods finally did the right thing, albeit way too late: He issued a vague apology Tuesday for his “transgressions.” Now the best he can do is hunker down for the next two months and hopes this all blows over. (Note: it won’t).

The holidays are not going to be easy for Tiger. I’m not sure if Dec. 25 holds any significance for Woods, since he was raised Buddhist. If he does celebrate Christmas, there’s one thing that definitely won’t be on his tree this year.

Extra trim.