“Tiger Woods says he’s “blessed” to be back after winning his first PGA Tour event in over five years, following a long and painful return to form from a back injury.” – news report.

But it was this quote – “All of a sudden it started hitting me I was going to win the tournament” – that reminded me of a letter I wrote to the maestro almost nine years ago. I reproduce it here in the interests of, well, nothing, really.

Dear Tiger,

It is absolutely outrageous that the filthy, lying dogs of the media are saying you came home smelling of some Yiddish tart called Rachel and that your wife scratched your face to bits then chased you out of the house, and when you tried to escape in your Cadillac you ploughed into a tree because you were whacked on painkillers and your eyes were full of blood and Elin caught up to you and smashed the window with a nine iron and dragged you out of the car and continued to maul you right there on the lawn in front of the neighbours.

This kind of wild speculation makes me sick. Your version of events, even though you haven’t given it yet, is far more plausible. Let me guess. You woke up in the middle of the night desperate for one of them damn fine Dunkin’ Donuts and you got up quietly so as not to wake your beautiful wife whom you love more than life itself and just as you were pulling away a dog, no, a pack of dogs, ran in front of you causing you to swerve and hit a fire hydrant and then a tree. Alerted by the noise, your beloved awoke and upon seeing you trapped semi-conscious inside the vehicle after your terrible accident she grabbed the nearest implement which in your house would obviously be a golf club and came to your rescue.

My wife says I am a gullible fool and that you were clearly up to your elbows in un-American activities. I find it easier on the kidneys if I agree with her, so I am changing my story.

You idiot! What on earth were you thinking? Whatever possessed you to marry a white woman? Did your mother not warn you about this? I know white women. Trust me when I say they are almost always more trouble than they are worth. Out here in the bush, many of our politicians have dozens of wives each and you never hear about marital problems. Why? Because they marry black women.

Look, I’m also a sucker for Swedish babes. Who isn’t? But as you have discovered, it’s not all hot monkey sex in the sauna and rolling about naked in the snow beating one another with birch branches. These people are Vikings, for heaven’s sake. They are natural born rapists and pillagers. Cross them and they will be at your throat in an instant.

If, on the other hand, this is a publicity stunt, then I have to say you have outdone yourself. Many of us have long suspected that you were some kind of robot or alien from another galaxy. Nobody could be that perfect. My racist friend Ted always said your only discernible flaw was that you were black, but after you made your first billion nobody even noticed that any more.

Perhaps you decided to do something outrageous to make yourself seem human. Unlike Britney Spears, you could hardly dismount from your golf cart at the US Masters and give the paparazzi a clear shot at your gentleman’s region. So you did the next best thing – staged an affair with a sultry temptress from New York City. Classy. I like it. Did it slip your mind to tell Elin that the entire business was a PR hoax?

Whatever you do, don’t speak to the cops. Look what they did to OJ. Next thing, you know, you’re up on charges of murdering half the neighbourhood. You can come and stay with us for a while. I instructed Brenda to get the spare room ready but she threatened to disembowel me with a screwdriver. That’s white women for you.

Anyway, good luck with whatever the hell it is you’re up to.

Yours at the 19th hole,

Ben Trovato