Tiger simply has too many irons in the fire

For weeks, Tiger Woods has touted the PGA Tour’s new FedEx Cup playoffs, whistling the theme to “Rocky III” on TV commercials. Curiously, Woods was whistling a different tune over the weekend, missing The Barclays event that kicked off the FedEx Cup.

Before we deal with Tiger – and, trust me, we will deal with Tiger – let’s take a brief look at this FedEx Cup calamity.

It has a labyrinthine point system not easily deciphered by most common minds such as mine, and it has a structure that allows someone such as Woods to skip the first of four “playoff events” but still be in a position to capture the title and first prize worth $10 million.

(Speaking of first prize, it’s not even in cash, it’s an annuity. I don’t even know what an annuity is. It sounds like “in perpetuity,” which means something stays the same forever – in this case, that something is YOU NEVER GET THE CASH.)

Now onto Tiger.

He had a reason for passing on the inaugural FedEx Cup tournament – he was tired.

Woods had just played back-to-back events, including the PGA Championship. “Playing the two weeks in the heat and humidity were mentally and physically draining,” he said. “Major championships are grueling experiences and usually necessitate recovery time.”

Okay, here are three things that are more “grueling” than playing in a major championship:

1. Climbing Mt. Everest.

2. Marrying Britney Spears.

3. Caddying for someone playing in a major championship.

I’m sorry, at the PGA Championship, was Tiger carrying his own clubs? He walked 18 holes a day with no more than the keys to his Buick in his pocket. My goodness, in golf you hit the ball, then stroll a couple of hundred yards and hit it again. And, John Daly notwithstanding, it’s a non-contact sport.

He’s mentally and physically drained?

It’s a four-day work week and he’s “working” about five hours a day!

(Work-wise, that puts him somewhere between The Slouch and the White House.)

Frankly, I think there are other forces at work here.

Tiger got married in 2004 – not a good idea.

He bought a new house in 2006 – not a good idea.

He became a father in 2007 – not a good idea.

So now he’s got a wife, a family and a mortgage. Elin is a terrific gal, plus she was working as a nanny when the couple met, so she’ll be able to take care of the baby fine, but the real problem is this massive property on Jupiter Island, Fla., that Tiger dropped $38 million on.

The main home on the property – there are also two guest houses, a double in-law setup, which is pretty darn stupid – has 13,000 square feet. What, suddenly Tiger Woods is Tony Montana in “Scarface”? I mean, when he comes home, Elin can’t even find him in time to hand Tiger a vodka gimlet before he hangs up his green jacket and drops his clubs by the umbrella stand.

His home sits on 10 acres – that’s too much grass to cut. One of his neighbors is Celine Dion – how often can you stand to hear “A New Day Has Come” sifting out of her shower? Plus his house has eight bedrooms and 13 bathrooms – who’s he expecting over Labor Day Weekend, Shawn Kemp and his family?

Worst of all, Tiger is trying to renovate and expand. Home renovations will whip your butt, buddy; they’re like standing in a 12-foot-deep greenside bunker for weeks on end.

He’s reportedly building a small golf course on the property. This makes no sense – would Jacques Cousteau snorkel in his backyard pool? Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, you come home to get away from the office. Buy a dartboard, or if you feel like splurging, a pool table. Hey, Wii bowling might relax you. Then kick back, and, next year, play in every friggin’ event of the FedEx Cup.

Like I wanted to watch Steve Stricker all weekend?

Ask The Slouch

Q. I’m not here to defend Michael Vick, but assuming he does jail time, is he never supposed to play pro football again because of his involvement in dogfighting? (Stephen J. Willis; Memphis)

A. I’m not here to defend him either, but at least he paid for the dogfighting venue himself. He didn’t take taxpayer money and then threaten to move to Nashville if he didn’t get luxury suites – kind of like the Jack Kent Cooke of dog fighting.

Q. David Beckham drew 46,000 to Washington and 66,000 to New York. What sayeth our resident naysayer Slouch now? (David Hines; Fremont, Calif.)

A. Sayeth? What are you, Macbeth? I say this: When Beckham isn’t around, MLS games still have trouble outdrawing a good Sunday sale at Mervyns.

Q. Congratulations on finally filling the vacant wife position – did you go for need or the best athlete available? (Jim Cataldi; Pittsburgh)

A. Actually, I just answered the doorbell one day.

Q. Now that Tiki Barber is a broadcaster, should he hold the microphone under his armpit so that he doesn’t fumble it? (Jonathan Evans; Dallas)

A. Pay the man, Shirley.