August 8, 2011

Bitter, Party of One, Your Table is Ready.


Step this way, Stevie. I can call you that, right? It is a bit too fourth-grade recess for me, but everyone else seems to use it, including the droves of people lining the 18th hole at the Firestone Country Club yesterday.  Have a seat and take a gander at our specials; I recommend a slice of the humble pie, but it may be a tad too sweet for your tastes.

First and foremost, congratulations on Adam Scott’s victory.  I hope it has at least sunk in that Mr. Scott won the title yesterday, not you.  Don’t get me wrong, you helped, of course. I am not trying to insult the other ball and bag carriers out there; caddies play a vital and often understated role on the golf course.  You are undoubtedly one of the more talented and experienced caddies out there, as your record speaks for itself.  But was this really the “best week” of your life?  Have you really “never had a bigger win” throughout your 33-year career?  Other than trying to be an asshole, can you really defend those statements? You won 13 majors with Tiger Woods. Thirteen. While Mr. Scott finally claimed his first WGC-Bridgestone Invitational championship yesterday, you have previously won eight titles on the same course.  Adam Scott played excellently and fully merits the recognition he is receiving today.  But, dude, you kind of stole his thunder.  And now your comments, rife with Tiger Woods’ drama, have poisoned his victory.  

Fans were not chanting Adam Scott’s name yesterday.  Instead, they were screaming things like “Screw you, Tiger” and “Way to stick it to him, Stevie!”  I have never heard a crowd become so supportive of a non-player and vindictive towards an actual player.  You spoke to the media before and after the tournament, breaking your traditional silence, only to rub salt in Tiger’s wounds.  I mean, he is a selfish prick, I get it.  You were dedicated and loyal for 11 years, and he totally screwed you over in the end. But by giving your former employer a verbal middle finger, you completely overshadowed your new employer’s moment to shine.  This weekend should have been about Adam Scott – not the Steve Williams Soap Opera.   Your new boss has complimented you, dealt patiently with inevitable questions regarding Tiger, and ignored the massive amount of attention you’ve received.  To repay him, you have not stopped talking about yourself.  Well, it is time to move on.

Listen, I cannot remember the last time that I defended Tiger Woods, the Prince of Porn Stars and Horndoggery.  But no one would know your name without him, Stevie.  So let’s give credit where credit is due.  You can be bitter about the way that Tiger treated you.  You can be exuberant that Adam Scott kicked his ass yesterday.  But don’t let one win cloud the memory of 145 previous victories.  It makes you look like nothing more than an ungrateful bastard. 

Until this weekend, I felt badly for you.  You had somehow turned yourself into a sympathetic character.  Another name on the laundry list of People Tiger Has Selfishly Screwed. You made me forget about years of pushing cameramen, cursing at reporters, and being rude to fans.  The truth is, you and Tiger were the perfect team; you are both supremely talented and absolute dickheads.  Maybe he kept you around for so long because he was, in part, afraid of the secrets you hold.  Maybe you really are just that good.  One way or the other, Tiger decided that enough was enough.   So enjoy your lunch, Stevie.  We sat you right by the door, the best seats in the house.  That way, you can see yourself out whenever Adam Scott tires of your shenanigans, much like Tiger Woods did a month ago. 

1 comment:

  1. The method by which Stevie was fired is at issue, and I tend to believe the caddie. But really, after making literally millions, if Tiger chose to slip a paper bag crayon note under his door that said, "Yer Out", that's Eldrick's right. We've all got a boss. And Stevie had a really good one, all things considered for a long, long time. If he kept his mouth shut all those years, why not now? Sour grapes, I say.

    - Manahattan Man

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