I’m going to admit this story snuck up on me.  First, I heard that ol’ Tiger had crashed his car into a tree near his home.  Then, the reports were that he had gone to the hospital for treatment of his vague wounds.  Finally, the hospital released a statement saying that no alcohol or drugs had been found in his system, this was an “accident,”  and he had been released.  End of story.

So I stopped paying attention.  The guy barely registers on my radar anyway, so zzzzzzzz.

But then, my friend sends me an email saying “I freaking love this!” with a link to one of many stories that would come out over the next few days insinuating that the golfer had an affair(s) and his supermodel wife had beat the crap out of him with one of his own golf clubs (an ironic twist, by the way, that makes me downright giddy).  If you happen to have been living under a rock (or been in a turkey-induced coma) this past week, check out this recap from the Orlando Sentinel.

And so it began.  Ridiculous coverage of these two - apparently having duked it out the old-fashioned way, but not releasing any statements to the media.  Oh wait, Tiger did say this:

“I have let my family down and I regret those transgressions with all of my heart. I have not been true to my values and the behavior my family deserves,” Woods wrote. “I am dealing with my behavior and personal failings behind closed doors with my family.”

Oh, the sorrow. The regret.  Cut to: the huge diamond that will inevitably show up on his wife's hand; the “Kobe Special” as I’ve heard it referred to over the past few days.

Here’s what I don’t get…

Why - for the love of God - do women put themselves in these situations by marrying professional athletes?  Even in a sport as lame as golf, and a guy as unattractive (sorry) as Tiger Woods, THEY WILL STILL CHEAT.  ALWAYS.  CONSTANTLY.  WITH ANYTHING.  EVEN STRIPPERS.

So ladies, please, don’t go down this road.  If you have the opportunity to date an athlete and think it sounds exciting, I guess go for it?  I’m not sure why this would be remotely appealing, but hey, different strokes.  However, don’t marry the guy.  No matter what your friends/relatives tell you, this is not a good idea.

Unless of course, you feel like getting a deadly STD (Magic Johnson), stabbed in your front walkway (OJ Simpson), embroiled in a rape scandal (Kobe Bryant), embroiled in a steroid scandal (uh, everyone), participating in a dog fighting ring (Michael Vick), caught in a love triangle (that other football player who was shot dead in Nashville earlier this year at his girlfriend’s house), and so on and so on.

Not to mention that an athlete’s career ends relatively quickly and that well dries up pretty fast.  Especially when your driveway is filled with extra-large custom cars and your basement’s got a bowling alley.  (If you’re purely interested in money, there are smarter roads to take, but that’s a whole, other subject).  I don’t believe every, single athlete is a world of hurt waiting to happen, but the odds are pretty good.  So why, as women, do we play a bad hand each and every time?  Has anyone ever rejected an athlete’s advances?  Said, “thanks, but no, thanks?”  What is the big attraction here?

Anyone have Elizabeth Hasselbeck’s number?  *kidding*