And here's how not to start a piece of sports journalism

Who wrote this intro? I'll be you can figure it out without looking for the name in the labels section of the post.

My son watched a few holes of the Masters with me on Sunday. He's nearly 3 and a half and hasn't figured out how to crap in the toilet yet. He spends most of his time naked or partially naked, barking out orders like "Put on Wow Wow Wubbzy!" and "I want graham crackers!" Every night, he promises us that he won't climb into our bed in the middle of the night, and yet, I always wake up around 4 a.m. because some snoring wildebeest is kicking me in the kidneys. Last week, the stubborn bastard sat still for a haircut for the first time only because we allowed him to play "Angry Birds" on an iPad. He's a man of many quirks. I'm not gonna lie.

I'm not gonna lie- I either think my main audience is new parents (Kids are a handful am I right?), or simply don't give a flying shit about trying to entertain anyone else. Listen, it's all well and good to try to connect with your audience by bringing up something they're familiar with. To start a column about Tiger Woods with 125 words about how your toddler behaves like every toddler in America kinda goes above and beyond that. I hate you with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, mystery writer whose obvious identity I won't reveal yet.

Here, check out how he ends the piece. Eventually he gets around to talking about Tiger and then wants to wrap up by going back to the kid. And how Tiger isn't a role model, or is, or something.

I am supposed to think that he's a poor role model -- that he's an adulterer, that he's selfish, that he's a phony, that he behaves badly on golf courses, that he's someone I wouldn't want my son to emulate some day. That's horses---. I want my son to know that you haven't lived until you've fought back, that you haven't won until you've lost, that you can't understand what it's like to relish something until you've suffered, too.

Hmm. So I guess being married with a kid but fucking everything that moves and then inevitably being caught is somehow equivalent to fighting a terminal disease or something.

I want him to understand that it's the 21st century, that we sit around picking our heroes apart all day, that we expect them to be superhuman at all times, that we get pissed off when they aren't, that it's hypocritical if you really think about it.

Who ISN'T secretly banging at least 15 random broads from all over the country at any point in time, you know?

If my son needs a role model, and he will, that person should be me. I don't need Tiger to teach my child how to behave. I need him to teach my son that it's fun to watch golf. Yesterday was the first lesson. There was a putt, and a roar, and a fist pump, and then my son screaming "Again!" Only Tiger Woods could have made it happen. It's a gift.

I'm so confused. So confused. If the point of this article was "Tiger Woods is fun to watch when he's golfing well" then I'm on board. Unfortunately the point might actually have been anything from "HI I'M CHARLES BARKLEY AND I JUSS WANTED TO REMIND YOU DAT AFLETES ARE NOT ROLE MODELS" to "I have a 3 year old who likes to act like a 3 year old." So I'm just going to turn in for the night.

Did you figure out who the author was? That's right, it was Hunter S. Thompson. Nah, just fucking with you, it was Simmons.