Jolly good, Tiger!

By Dr. Charles P. Ipswich IV
University Professor

Hello, readers. I was lounging in my office, behind my thunderous oak desk, and perusing the latest issue of Harpers while enjoying a good scone, and I was distracted momentarily by the InterWeb, upon whence I noticed a story involving golf legend Tiger Woods.

It seems that our friend Mr. Woods was engaging in competitive action yesterday at a match play event when his designated opponent, Mr. Stephen Ames, took the opportunity to partake in some pre-event bravado talk. He told the assembly of media members gathered there on the driving range that since the event was a head-to-head match play format, anything could happen, "especially with where Tiger is hitting the ball."

Researchers have noted in studies done in various laboratories that caged tigers can be teased and pestered so that they bottle up their tension and anger and store it up in simply volatile capacities. When the beasts are then uncaged, the aggression is unleashed, often with staggering and incapacitating results.

I feel that there is an extreme corollary between what happens with those beasts of nature and what occurred yesterday with Mr. Woods. When it came time for competition, Mr. Woods wasted no time in giving his opponent a good rodgering, defeating him in just ten holes. Superlative dominance at its absolute, most critical apex, one must say.

It was a thing of beauty. Tiger's aforementioned dominance was like a vast steel barge that pressed onward unfettered through the sometimes-murky waters of the Caspian Sea in late October when the gulls frolic overhead much like children enjoying their recess time near the basketball hoop on the school playground commons with shouts and hollers of unrestricted human joy and emotion.

I, of course, never experienced that joy as a lad, because I was often duct taped to the basketball hoop during recess time. But I digress ...

And dear Mr. Woods, when asked about his dominance, would not take the bait. When asked what he thought of Mr. Ames' comments, Tiger simply repeated the score of the match! Bully, Tiger! I highly respect his ability to not give in and remain as cool as the cobblestone walks in Manchester on a crisp March morning.

This spectacle of Tiger's motivation raises an eyebrow-raising question: Does bravado talk actually increase an athlete's motivation? Or should these athletes be motivated already by the grand sums of money and fame that await them?

The answer, of course, lies in Harpers. When I read the magazine, I often feel a joyous sense of privilege that I actually have the magazine in my weathered hands. When Dr. Finnstein across the hall asks me if I've seen the latest copy of Newsweek, I can simply scoff at him and tell him, "No, Dennis, I've been too busy reading Harper's." I generally permit myself a good chuckle, which will sometimes elicit muttering from Dr. Finnstein.

Now I imagine that the muttering coming from within his office is not of a flattering persausion. So I take offense to the fact he may be engaging in shows of bravado. And I find that when this sort of happenstance occurs, I usually give my finest lectures later in the day -- I feel like a spectacular piece of art given its own exhibition at a prestigous gallery attended only by the finest people who are gathered to appreciate its perfect construction, tone and composition. Dr. Finnstein is not there at the lectures, of course, but his stifled mumbling from earlier in the morn has motivated me to prove that I deserve this copy of Harper's that lies on my desk.

Oh dear, Charles. You've gone tangential again. Time to digress, I must say.

I digress, readers. In conclusion, do not supply your fellow man with motivational incentive that could one day come back and haunt you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my strawberries and cream.