Dear Tiger Woods,

Congratulations on smashing up your car for the fourth time since 2009! I have friends who haven’t so much as had a fender-bender in 30 years of driving. Then again, I have other friends who go through a car a week. They’re my favourites. Life is too short to exercise caution of any kind.

To be honest, I’m more impressed with your ability to keep wrecking cars than your ability to keep winning golf tournaments. I’m guessing here, of course. I have no idea when last you won a tournament. Or even if you still play. Perhaps I should do a little research, even though it’s above my pay grade.

Oh dear. Your last big win was in 2019. That’s okay. I haven’t had much luck since then either. Actually, that’s not true. I got divorced around about then. You got dumped by the Swede Erin a decade earlier. No wonder you’ve been on the tear ever since.

Listen, I’ve been wondering about your injuries. Apart from the run of the mill damage sustained in your motoring adventures, you’ve had multiple operations on your back, knees, Achilles tendons and so on. You’ve had more injuries than a professional rugby player. It’s hard to believe this was entirely caused through golf alone.

I’ve been married twice – I know all about swinging my hips and keeping my head down – and I’ve never been hospitalised as a result of even the wildest of conjugal activities. Then again, I’ve never been married to a Scandinavian. I expect she inflicted at least some of your injuries after catching you hitting the sweet spot whenever her back was turned.

I bet you’ve never forgotten that terrible Thanksgiving night in 2009 when you hit a fire hydrant and tree outside your house after succumbing to a bout of the yips. It happens to golfers everywhere, usually after they’ve spent a few hours at the 19th hole. Or a few hours in 19 holes. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to reopen old wounds.

In that crash, you sustained minor injuries and the Viking walked away with $100-million in the divorce. Seems a little extreme, although I’ve also given stuff to women to stop them from going on and on about something.

Your longest recorded drive in a PGA Tour event is 498 yards. That’s more than your longest recorded drive in an SUV without having an accident. You’re clearly better at golf than you are behind the wheel. That’s okay. I suck at both, even though I’ve written a book on golf. Have you read it? Of course you have. That’s why you’re ranked 2,590^th in the world right now.

Things have been relatively quiet since you woke up to find your car trying to climb a tree and the Swede running across the lawn in her nightie screeching in a foreign tongue and brandishing a 9 iron above her head. Well, quietish.

There was that moment in 2017 when the cops nabbed you for being slumped over the wheel of your Merc. Your mistake was not to switch the engine off before taking an unscheduled nap. You said you had an unexpected reaction to prescription medicine. Fair enough. I have had many unexpected reactions to all sorts of things, not all of which ended in me being arrested. I also recall some very pleasant unexpected reactions. The toxicology report found Vicodin, Dilaudid, Xanax, Ambien and THC in your system. Respect, brother. That’s enough to bring down a buffalo.

In 2021, you were on your way to a television shoot at 7am when you hit a tree. The vehicle got airborne and you got rods, screws and pins in your legs. That’s why I don’t drive before midday. It should’nt even be allowed.

Then, last Friday, for no good reason at all, your Land Rover ended up on its side. That’s Landies for you, man. Just can’t trust ’em.

You passed the breathalyser test, so you hadn’t been drinking even though it was already 2pm, and then you refused to give the police a urine sample. Can’t say I blame you. Cops will use any excuse to get a look at your willy. Disgraceful. Worse than Land Rovers, they are.

Now you’ve been charged with DUI. You’re lucky. In some parts of America, you get charged with DWB – Driving While Black.

Let’s forget about cars for a moment. I’m more interested in the news that you have been dating Vanessa Trump for over a year. You seem to have a thing for blondes with Nordic blood. But, hey, who doesn’t? They will be the ruin of us, but we can’t help ourselves.

Her track record in the choice of partners is impressive. Anyone capable of staying married to Donald Trump Jr for over a decade is made of sterner stuff than me. Her ex-husband was once described by his aunt Mary as “deeply unintelligent”. This is no reflection on Vanessa. Anyway, we’ve all hooked up with morons. Maybe not for 13 years, but still.

Even though your girlfriend has impeccable credentials – once a model, opened a nightclub, released her own line of handbags – she had five children with the US president’s favourite son. Five. Them’s a whole lot of wild, squirrelly genes running through that blood. No wonder you take tranquilisers.

Bit of advice, boet. A driver is more than just a golf club. Maybe use one in future.