Chatting with an acquaintance today they indicated that they heard, read, understood that Tiger (clearly, no last name required) had, at last count, at least eleven women since he "took his vows" as a married man. Tsk, tsk they added.

"That's all?" I said. "Seems to me, with the amount of time he spent on the road, that is a pretty paltry number"

But who's counting?

Apparently, everyone.

There is an amazing amount of prurient interest in who is doing what with whom.

I, for one, subscribe to Henry Kissenger's point of view. "Power is an aphrodisiac."  Need I enumerate who should be included in this list of "the fallen"….I suspect not…but fall they did. For a minute.Then they were forgiven, and championed, once again, as the elected official or athlete of yore.

Do we forgive the transgressions?

Apparently we do. Bill is on a global mission, Eliot is teaching, Kobe is scoring baskets…to name, but a few.

Why do we turn the other cheek? Damned if I know. But we do.

So, I suspect, in time we will forgive Tiger his indiscretions. We will reelect the indiscreet official and champion the errant athlete. Shrug our shoulders and renounce our moral convictions.

Is it because we are all a heartbeat away from an indiscretion? Is it because we understand the draw of the moment of touching "fame?"  Haven't a clue.

But, I do know that the count will continue, the judgments made, the endorsements lost and the return heralded. Because, in the keeping score column, he with the most points, whatever they might be accumulated from, wins.