David Leggat: Woods may have copped less flak if he was more human

Some years ago a former New Zealand cricketer expressed a dim view of the then current players.

At the time, New Zealand were getting beaten and copping hefty criticism for their performance by the media.

They didn't like it, wanting a bit of privacy to go about the business of improving their form.

"These blokes don't know they're alive," muttered the old(ish) timer. "They should go and live in England for a while and see how they like it."

This was the England where one tabloid newspaper portrayed the England captain of the day, David Gower, with a dunce's hat, and superimposed a turnip on the head of the country's soccer manager Graham Taylor after a particularly awful defeat against Sweden.

"Swedes 2, Turnips 1" chortled the headline.

The bigger the fish, and the bigger the pond, the greater the fascination, for good and bad. Which in a roundabout way brings Tiger Woods into view.

Consider for a moment if Woods was a gregarious type who happily posed for photos with fans, was seen having a few beers with his mates, playing in the park with his kids, not above the odd prank. Nothing salacious, just being Joe Human.

Would the whopping coverage of his car v fire hydrant and tree in the early hours to a backdrop of 7-iron wielding Scandinavian wife have been as, well, whopping?

Possibly, given his status as the planet's biggest sporting name, it would.

But perhaps not. It could be argued that because of the cordon of untouchability with which he has ring-fenced himself for the past decade, any slip from grace would be pounced on. Almost a case of "gotcha, Tiger". And that's what has happened.

On the course, Woods is such a tightly-wound figure, he doesn't seem to enjoy himself. Fierce grimaces, club slamming, cussing all point to someone unable to relax and smell the freshly cut grass.

Why the deeply unhappy appearance when he levers a wedge from 70m to within a pace of the hole?

Most players from top quality pros to weekend hackers would be chuffed. But not Woods. Why? Because he wanted it closer.

That is reasoning, and emotion, known only by the greatest. Driven and tunnel-visioned? With bells on.

Some part of Woods must have known that his apparent fascination for cocktail waitresses and hostesses would come out eventually.

Text at your peril. If Woods couldn't figure out texting one of his female acquaintances warning his wife might have rumbled him was a dumb move which could only end in tears he's thick.

Perhaps he was thinking with a part of his anatomy somewhere lower than his brain.

He's not the first sports person to play away from home, but his is the most spectacular outing in years.

However many more major titles he wins, life will never be the same. The reputation he has guarded so assiduously has been torn down for good.