The voice speaks from beyond the grave, in a tone of ultimate authority. It’s Tiger Woods’ late father Earl, giving him an old-fashioned tongue-lashing for his misdeeds in the startling new Masters-timed commercial from Nike: “I want to find out what your thinking was,” Earl Woods is heard to say as his famous son stares manfully into the camera. “I want to find out what your feelings are. And did you learn anything?”
The commercial is genius. Kudos to Nike.
But let’s consider where this ad came from — and what it is telling us.
First, remember that Tiger Woods has two jobs. One is professional golfer; the other is spokesmodel/hero. The second is actually his primary job and the one that delivers most of his income. Indeed, if before the scandal broke he had suffered a career-ending injury, he could have continued to work as a pitchman indefinitely.
If Woods’ guilt about his contemptible behavior affected his career as a golfer, it never showed before and there’s no particular reason to think that having covered himself in shame is going to keep him from again winning the Masters or other major tournaments. If the guy can win the U.S. Open with a broken leg he knows how to tune out distractions.
Nike knows this — everybody knows it — but the fairy tale it is marketing is very different. It is that of a good man who somehow fell into a swamp of “addiction,” wisely sought “therapy,” “counseling,” and “rehab” for it, suffered mightily — and then bounced back from the bottom to win more trophies. This Nike will spin as his ultimate redemption and hurry on, as if being a great golfer absolves you of being a sorry human being.
Cheating on your wife with every D-cupped cocktail waitress and stripper from Augusta to Pebble Beach is not a symptom of “addiction,” which reframes it as a disease. It’s a choice, one that reveals the true character of Woods to be that of a careless, selfish, swine. Regardless of what happens on the links, his endorsement career ought to be over. His contracts, which contain boilerplate morals clauses, were nullified by his adultery. If he continues to star in TV commercials and magazine ads — even if his confident smile is replaced by the chastened frowny face he unconvincingly sports in the new Nike spot — it cheapens the idea of what a hero is. It says to every boy and girl across the land that who you are, down deep, doesn’t matter. What you do to your loved ones doesn’t matter. All that matters is the image you create.
Practically no one but Tiger Woods, of course, will ever be afforded such an opportunity because ordinary people don’t have access to millions of dollars worth of carefully organized advertising and publicity to burnish their fake selves. But that message will be steamrolled by project Rebuild Tiger.
With the new ad, Nike is steering the narrative towards Woods’ suffering. Look at this poor man who must endure harsh words (that aren’t actually all that harsh) from his sainted father! Let’s all think about his “thinking.” Let’s all feel his “feelings.” It must really be tough to sink those putts, what with all he’s been through.
Now gaze behind the curtain and imagine what went into this campaign. Nike won’t reveal the context behind the Earl Woods tape. What does that tell us? “Tiger, we can’t ignore what you did. But we need to shape it. Tell us, do you have any personal, family artifact of rebuke that might make people warm to you?”
“Well, I think I’ve got a tape of my dad yelling at me for being 20 minutes late to practice when I was 11.”
“Perfect! Your dad’s dead, right? So he’s not going to hold a press conference denouncing us for ripping his words out of context. Okay, now, next question: Tiger, can you look really tortured for 30 seconds? Remember, millions of dollars are at stake.”
“No problemo, dudes!”
Except Woods didn’t suffer. His life was a nonstop party, for years. What he did was cause others to suffer. He isn’t a victim; he’s a degenerate. His brief hiatus from golf and his stay in “rehab” are mere theater meant to allow time for the jokes to die down and to rebrand him as a soul-searcher.
What soul? Woods didn’t fall in love with someone other than his wife, didn’t commit an indiscretion or two, didn’t prove he’s “only human.” On the contrary: His sexual exploits are practically superhuman. They required planning and tactical brilliance and elaborate deceptions and a tireless, all-consuming devotion to adultery. They aren’t “a mistake.” They reveal the true essence of who he is: a revolting scoundrel. It doesn’t matter how much time he spends parading his penitence. His hero credentials stand permanently revoked. Don’t let Nike fool you into thinking otherwise because they need him to sell their super-duper high-performance sweaters.
Join the conversation as a VIP Member