Slap Hitter: Tiger Woods and the Incovenient Truth

Monday, middle of the day everyone near a TV set extended their lunch hour for as long as their boss would let them (and longer if the boss was in there watching too) a sporting event they ordinarily wouldn’t watch at a time they’d never look for a televised sport. I know because I was one of them. The finish of the U.S. Open was a moment made all the sweeter because of its serendipity. Whatever the opposite of “appointment television” is; this was it. Back to the future as knots of strangers huddle around whatever video screen was on, commenting to the air with the hope that one of the strangers would take our expressed thought and respond to it. And it was a moment that plucked a nostalgic chord for those of us who ever looked at a game in the appliance department, ducked into a bar or snuck out of the party into the TV room to catch the last swing.

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