The Sanctum of Sanity

Tiger, Tamed at Last.

Shock News, Tiger Shoots 18 Over Par.

Everyone seems surprised that Tiger Wood's game is now as wobbly as a greengage jelly on a bunker babe's bum. Many are blaming his obvious lack of focus on the anxiety caused by his recent personal problems, but I have my own theory. I think he's simply lost his motivation, now that there is no prospect of finding any bonkable birdies waiting for him in the 19th hole. Or indeed, offering him any alternative hole in which to park his errant putter after a long and strenuous game. I believe, that without his familiar choice of post competition holes, he's simply lost the will to win.

It's true that most men, when expected to undertake a difficult and challenging task, desire some sort of reward at the end for all that effort and exertion. I know, that I'm very reluctant, to even undertake a gentle stroll through the countryside without the offer of of some tangible sensory stimulus at the end of the walk.

In my case, it's only the promise of a couple of pints of fine ale in a comfortable and welcoming country pub, but if I were Tiger, used to more exciting stimuli for success, I'd be very reluctant to walk for over four hours, if I was denied my customary reward. Especially, with the added burden of having to repeatedly try to hit a small ball into a tiny hole on eighteen different greens.

No, sad though it is, I think that Tiger's troubles would soon be cured if he simply had the balls to turn the totty tap back on.

For, after all, a golfer with no balls, is about as much use as a tiger with no teeth, and as we all know, in sport as in life, it's the winning which truly counts, not the dubious honour of merely taking part.