Millions are anticipating a fairy tale ending to this week’s Masters.

The hope is that it will feature a comeback victory by Mr. Woods.  I haven’t watched any of the three rounds that have already been played, so I’ll admit to not being a major fan of golf.  You may be enjoying watching the tournament this weekend. That would be great news for advertisers.

They’re counting on it.

Tiger’s comeback is more about resurrecting his image than winning this or any other tournament. The money that Tiger, Inc. generates as a pitchman dwarfs the millions of dollars that he earns by actually playing golf. More importantly, while his golf earnings only benefit him, his endorsement deals make money for his many partners.

To them, that’s what’s important.

The advertisers know that the people who are into golf are already in the basket. They watch golf, see the commercials, and may even make purchasing decisions based on what they view. Many of those people are golf enthusiasts who don’t care what Tiger does when he’s not on the course – as long as he wows them on Sunday. As has been the case with many woebegone athletes before him, Tiger’s allure to the hardcore fan in impermeable.

I’d wager that there is very little that Tiger could do – short of harming an animal or suddenly sucking at golf – that would result in his fans turning away from him.

As a sports fan, I understand fandom. We get a vicarious thrill as we marvel at the abilities of our sports heroes. This is especially true with golf. As we get older, we relegate our baseball glove, basketball, and tennis racket to a cobwebbed corner of the garage. Who has the energy for those sports?

But golf is different.

For many, a leisurely golf cart ride along the course with an occasional swing of the club is more of an activity than a sport. That is not to suggest that it is an easy activity to master, but the physicality involved, for a weekend golfer, is much less than it would be if they were running up and down a basketball court.

We can imagine ourselves doing what pro golfers do.

Tiger’s trifling ways have been well documented, so there’s no point in repeating his off-the-course exploits here.

Not surprisingly, most women are offended by what he has done while most men just pretend to be.

Whether you love the guy, think he’s a pig, or are ambivalent, like I am, there is no arguing that it’s impossible to avoid the story. Most irksome to me about the wall-to-wall coverage of Tiger is that the current chapter of this saga, his comeback, is being presented as a story of redemption.

How exactly does that work?

• Will his wife forgive and forget if Tiger wins?
• Will that disturbing commercial with his father’s voice become less icky?
• Will I run out and buy some Tiger gear?

None of these things will happen.

In the end, it won’t matter that Tiger pretended to be remorseful only after getting caught, nor will it matter that this is just the latest incarnation of this type of story.

The Tiger will be stroked, the crowds will cheer, and the money will keep rolling in.

This, my friends, is definitely not a fairy tale.

Cinderella didn’t act like a tool before she received her glass slipper.

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