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Oh, and he’s the founder of a foundation that is helping America’s youth. He’s had a part in educating 10 million youngsters, if you believe some wildly inflated numbers.

The most important message delivered from the playbook, though, was that he’s a much better person than ever before.

“If that (the accident) didn’t happen I don’t think I’d be as blessed or as balanced as I am now,” Woods said.

Please. Save it for the Nike ad.

The problem isn’t just that Woods is perceived as an aloof phony interested only in padding his still hefty bank account. He’s been exposed for all to see, and people have made their judgments.

The real problem is that he’s not remotely interesting unless he’s winning golf tournaments. And until he does that again, no media blitz is going to make him palatable to the public again.

Unfortunately for Woods, his game is about as messed up as his reputation.

He’s got a swing he can’t trust and a short game that’s suddenly not so magical. He went all year without winning for the first time ever, and the same players who once cowered before him are now more likely to be making jokes about him.

“The single worst thing that ever could happen to Tiger Woods may be happening,” said Michael Kempner, president of MWW Group public relations in East Rutherford, N.J. “He has gone from being immortal to being extraordinarily mortal.”

Judging from his new public relations campaign, Woods and his advisers apparently haven’t figured that out yet. They’re still playing by the old ground rules, believing that with some careful packaging they can make Woods what he once was again.

But while it’s true that sports fans can be incredibly forgiving, perhaps it’s time Woods gets some new advice.

Stop writing articles. Give up on the tweets. Blow off the radio shows.

And start practicing your putting.


Tim Dahlberg is a national sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at tdahlberg(at)