Sorry, Tiger Woods, This Is Our Business

Forget what the press release says, this tabloid-enhanced story is no "private matter"

A one-car accident. No suspicion that the driver was intoxicated. No immediate evidence that a crime was committed.

Yes, if Tiger Woods were you, what happened Thanksgiving weekend on Deacon Circle would have stayed on Deacon Circle.

"He wouldn't be able to get a police officer to write a report," Mark D. Rasch, an attorney and former federal prosecutor, told us. "There wouldn't be a second or third attempt for an interview. There wouldn't be a first."

But Tiger Woods is not you. And, no, what happened on Deacon Circle, private road though it may be, is not a "private matter."

Mike Paul, a public-relations specialist who operates as "the reputation doctor," told us he suspects Woods knows this.

"But I think he's leaning on the advice of his lawyers," Paul said, adding that Sunday's press release—the one which defined the fender bender noted 'round the world as "private matter"—was "totally written by an attorney."

"It was totally written from the perspective of the court of law, and it left his butt swinging out there to get smacked."

According to Paul, it's time—past time, really—Woods started courting the court of public opinion.

"The root isn't the accident. The root is the thing you don't want to talk about," Paul said. "The root is the alleged affair. Did your wife beat you up because of an adulterous affair?

"No one wants to be positioned as a man who got beat up by his wife, but this thing is already embarrassing."

And out of control.

"We're filling in the blanks because Tiger hasn't," Rasch said. "We're filling in the blanks with lots of different stories that may or may not be true."

Things could have been different. With the mainstream media initially above mentioning the National Enquirer story—the one that linked Woods with future Gloria Allred client Rachel Uchitel—the sports star could have gotten ahead of the story and blown the whistle on himself.

Like David Letterman did.

He could have blasted the Enquirer before wife Elin Nordegren had become as famous for wielding a golf club as he is; he could have sued the tabloid before the print was dry on its article.

Like Tom Cruise might have.

He could have defended his brand with openness and transparency.

Like the makers of Tylenol once did.  

Whatever he could've done, what he shouldn't have done was pretend this story's ingredients (Alleged affair! Distraught wife! Holiday dysfunction!) wouldn't prove to be anything but addictive.

What he shouldn't have done was forget that he was Tiger Woods.

"When you were 2 years old, and your father put you into this, you signed a social and public contract," Paul said. "You give up a lot to gain the fame and the money."

You give up the right to call this private matter a private matter.