Has enough been said about Tiger's Nike ad? Nooooo. There are infinite comments remaining.
Obviously, it was a tremendous, triple-D cup, pecker-sized mistake. (Note to kids: You should have stopped reading by now, and that's an order from Mom.) I think the underlying problem is that it was done for Nike. While Mr. Woods, Sr. is talking, his voice wah-wahing at Tiger like a teacher to Charlie Brown in a April Fool's cartoon, all my head keeps saying, looking at that "swoosh" or whatever they call it in promo-land, is "Just do it." Like the unreformed Tiger was really the prototype for the brand, you know? Like Tiger's just sitting there, taking it, but saying inside, "I don't get it. You told me to just do it." Tiger seems like such a, I don't know, blockhead. All he can do is blink. Then I start wondering what Charlie Brown would be like in bed. And if he ever made it with the little red-haired girl. Or if he just settled down with Peppermint Patty, and lusted in his heart his whole life like Jimmy Carter, another doofus I don't want to imagine in bed. And then I feel like a pervert, and it sort of ticks me off. I mean, who's the pervert here? Not me. Not poor Peanuts Chuck. Or Peanut Jimmy. Upshot is, Tiger as Charlie Brown won't sell me sneakers. You?
Oh well. At least the crowd clapped. Maybe in the way you'd clap for that sad little Christmas tree - you know the one.