Tiger and The Masters

Of all the many, many — oh too many! — articles written about Tiger Woods and The Masters golf tournament this week, this one by Bill Simmons had me laughing out loud.

“Augusta intentionally positions itself as a cocoon, a well-preserved time capsule that preserves the good old days — you know, before sports became commercialized, before Title IX, before DirecTV season passes, before the Internet, before everything — when rich white guys could play golf without having to deal with anything else.  In 2010, networks, agents and superstars have all the power in sports. Nobody else really matters. Augusta flips that around. They make it very clear to everyone. We hold the cards. Not you. Us. For one week a year, you will play by OUR rules.”

Simmons says what all the zillions of other sports reporters can’t quite bring themselves to say:  about Tiger, about the stuffiness of The Masters (which, ahem, you must say with whispered breath), about the chest-puffing of Billy Payne and the stuffy Augusta gentry, etc…

Read and enjoy.  I did.

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