On the New York Times blog, former baseball player Doug Glanville explains Tiger Woods the way only another pro athlete can.
I was just 20 when I was drafted and it didn’t take long to understand that a new kind of woman was interested in me: the sort of woman who in the past had stirred my insecurity. It was like a kid finding Batman’s belt in the lost and found. No point in giving it back until you’ve tried all your new powers. But we forget to ask, will I be able to stop once I’ve tasted these powers?
Superficially, the new bar for women was set based on the physical: some sort of exterior beauty, along with fame, sophistication, wild-child possibility, flirtation with the dark side — all qualities and places I could hardly fathom until I entered the world of a pro athlete.
It didn’t help that minor league players in spring training are in the same venues as the big leaguers. When the day’s training was over, the places to hang out were frequented by all levels of players, and even coaches.
As you climb the baseball ladder, your social confidence explodes. You receive the sort of attention you never did as an acne-ridden honors student. Quite frankly, it is addictive, and when you are in it, there seems to be no end in sight.
But it isn’t rooted in good practices; it’s more like, “flash your badge and they will come.” Your confidence is based on a pack mentality, strong in numbers. You can push aside the inconvenience of having to start a conversation — just by being in the V.I.P. section and offering tickets to the next day’s game, the conversation is started for you. If you have a well-connected agent or an entourage to find you a companion, you might not need conversation at all. At the very least, your newly acquired wealth can keep the drinks flowing to the point where you don’t feel like you’re trying to ask your first-grade crush, Michele Soleimani, to borrow her pencil. …
Nice shout-out to the first grade crush. Read the whole thing. It’s elementary, my dear.