SAVED FROM SHAQTIN’ By Arthur George-Special to BASN JaVale McGee is reclaiming...
Straight No Chaser: To Catch A Tiger
Not to mention the finger nails must have been a-flying everywhere.
Tiger, to allow his wife to claw him like that, must not be that elusive of a cat . . .
His evasive maneuvers, evidently aren’t that . . . evasive. It makes me tend to question, even more-so, the idea Woods, or any golfer, bowler at horse Jockey or race car driver are truly physically gifted athletes.
Bob n’ weave bra’. Get outta’ the way of that straight right jab!
And since we’re tossing around the word evasive, Tiger is being quite evasive when it comes to explaining his “situation.”
And, I’m thinking why he hasn’t broken it all down for the world, is because he can’t, or at least not without unforeseen consequences and repercussions.
Tiger’s predicament is one of those “oh the web we weave, when at first we deceive” cases, and he’s certainly aware of what he says, understanding it will all be vetted, there dudes out there right now trying to shove a telescope up his ass, his wife’s ass, the neighbor’s ass.
And Tiger can’t control all aspects and elements of this soap-opera. His women, the “other women,” Rachel Uchitel, the press and the police . . . even for a man like Woods, with enormous wealth, he can’t “heal the sick nor raise the dead” – he’s just a man, yes a very rich man, but nonetheless . . . just a man.
Hell, Tiger can’t control the mouth of his other woman’s friend, Ashley Samson, who’s singing like a big bird. Additionally, let’s not make light of the fact Tiger, and I’m sure it’s due to the way he was raised, right, he went out of his way to depict himself as a . . . humble, meek, docile, unassuming, unlike most of the other boys he – didn’t smoke or chew, nor go out with girls who do . . . .
Unlike too many young Black sportsmen, he was not loud, boisterous, braggadocios nor conceited – he was a well raised officer and gentleman you’d like your son to grow up to be like, or your little girl to marry.
This is a well meaning, tightly scripted life Tiger has kept to, and apparently, to a degree, somewhat of a faÃ§ade he’s painted himself into – a perfect four point corner, and any wavering away, like of this sort, can’t help but hurt.
Now, what Tiger is about to endure is going to be of the O.J. or Marvin Harrison variety; despite being a model negro. And I do mean model in the veins of Joe Louis, Floyd Patterson, David Robinson and Tim Dunbar, now that he’s slipped, proven he’s human – there are those in the press, who can’t wait to spoon feed a golf fan base . . . which has been waiting for this moment, something, anything to knock Tiger from his throne – and the hope is – this is it.
The Tiger King has on no clothes . . . nor does his mistress.
This will be the aspect of this sordid tale which will be the most interesting; how Tiger is hung, (not that hung) how he’s vilified, demonized and tried in the court of public opinion, which is already lightin’ the fires and kick’in the tires of the Redneck Cadillac pickup truck their going to use to bring down the monument erected of Tiger.
Hey, stop deluding yourself, Fuzzy Zoeller is not the only White guy disgusted Tiger has taken over the “sport” of golf. Honestly, there’s a large slice of this nation which is mortified this cat’s the face of their beloved country club endeavor, horrified Woods has redefined golf.
Inflamed he won the right to slip into the “masters” green sport coat. Pissed off he went out and bagged himself a beautiful Nordic Viking princess. It’s as if he’s rubbing folk’s faces in the black dirt.
Look, when Jack Johnson, nearly a century ago, dated, flaunted . . . transported a White women across state lines . . . it aggravated and irritated the White male populace – it still does today.
Once more, don’t mislead yourself; a Black man, a very rich Black man walking around with his paws draped over a White women, a beautiful White women, letting his hand slip down, from around her waist, to grasping her butt – yeah, that lights a special fire in the hearts and minds of all the angry White people across the country; the Republicans, the Blue-Dog Democrats and the Tea-Baggers.
And if you think it doesn’t any longer in the US, you’re crazy.
This nation is one gun-shot from race wars.
There’s a lynch-mob gathering, just like they did for Vick, Bonds and Plax, and despite Woods being a nicer more mannerable Black man . . . with no hint of wrong doing, no lack of decorum before this mishap . . . they’ll drag his Black ass out of that 2.9 mill castle down in the Sunshine state, and hang him from his own ole oak tree.
Speaking of sunshine, I hope the other women’s . . . love box, was well worth it, as good as, as warm as, as powerful as . . . sunshine. Throw it up in the air, and call it sunshine.
Tiger sits on the verge of experiencing what scores of professional Black folks discover at some point in life, when it’s all said and done . . . regardless of the titles, labels, accolades and astronomical material wealth . . . you’re still but a Nigger in the eyes of millions, yes millions of people, both golf fans and just Americans in general.
Take a gander at what President Obama‘s had to weather; his academic credentials dismissed by Redneck pundits like Rush, who regularly question his intelligence, his morals and values.
Yeah dig that, even a born with a platinum spoon in his mouth slob like Limbaugh, on his ump-tenth wife, and still he has the audacity, and his millions of listeners are . . . moral-less enough – to believe he has the credibility to question a common man whose been married to the same women for decades, with no hint of an impropriety.
Watch . . .
you do know there are those, of course, who refer to Tiger as a “Tie-Coon.”
Of course, like his boy, Michael Jordan, who found himself in a similar spot, Tiger will survive, his game, his swing will more or likely remain the same, he’ll be at the top of the golf game, but he will no longer be perfect, untouchable, clad in all-white . . . immortal, and upon weighing and measuring Tigers efforts of the past, that pristine image . . . matters a great deal to Tiger, and as he well knows, to his corporate sponsors.
Tiger’s risked, perhaps not everything, but a great deal, on a what, Gold-Digger, who yes, did catch herself a rich Tigger. You and I can’t count the Black women across the land saying to themselves “here’s this man who thought Black women were too spirited, too spicy, too hot to handle.
So he went and got himself a snow flake . . . who evidently snapped, went off the deep end, tried to crack his head open with a 9-iron, he’ll he might as well have married a Sapphire from Hell’s kitchen or Spanish Harlem.
Tiger’s creepin’ now . . . but he should have been creeping lower n’ slower yesterday, last month . . . when the eyes of the Enquirer were turned on him.