Woods issues a new statement

The following is a statement from Elrick Woods

A lot of people are saying I should reveal more about the details surrounding the incident last Friday in which I was injured in a one-car accident outside my Florida home. I’ve always tried to be honest with my fans and the public at large, but this has been a new and difficult experience for me. My gut reaction was to protect my privacy; that now seems, however, to be impractical.

The fact of the matter is that it’s hard to say anything at all when your wife has used your favorite pitching wedge to give you a fat lip the size of the seventeenth green at Turnberry.

Let me rephrase that.

 “I had a single-car accident earlier this week and sustained some injuries. This situation is my fault, and it’s obviously embarrassing to my family and me. I’m human and I’m not perfect. I will certainly make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Actually, I think it is time to say just a little bit more. First of all, I want to thank all my fans for their support during this difficult period. I know I’m in their thoughts and in their prayers, and that’s a place I really appreciate being. So much better than that all-expenses-paid vanity golf tournament I’m having to miss in Hawaii this weekend.

Secondly, I want to go on the record to say I don’t think the following joke is funny. What’s so unusual about Tiger pushing his drive out of bounds and into a tree? Hasn’t he been doing that during the final round at every tournament this year? The only difference this time is that instead of laying up, he laid down. In the street.

I ask you not to laugh.

As I say, I do think it would be best at this point to tell more of what happened that evening. The speculation that’s out there is so wild and irresponsible that I feel I have to talk about issues I’d rather keep private. I’m going to retrace the events of Friday, and let the chip shots fall where they may.

I was sitting at home watching television, and it was late at night. I sometimes have trouble falling asleep at a normal hour, since I’m constantly travelling to distant time zones around the world in order to lead golf tournaments for three rounds before fading badly in the fourth. That takes a lot out of you (the time zones, not the losing so much, since I still get a hefty appearance fee).

I was feeling a little chilly. My Scandinavian wife likes to keep the AC cranked way high, and Lord knows we need to keep her frosty. Anyway, I was watching a commercial for the Snuggly and realized they’re now available in local retail outlets, so I decided to run out to the 24-hour Walgreen’s in our neighborhood and get one.

I called to Elin that I was running out for a Snuggly. You have to realize, of course, that our house is absolutely immense, probably the size of about a thousand Buicks glued together (the Buick Holiday Event is now ON, offering the best deals of the year, by the way) and she may not have heard me clearly.

She apparently misunderstood where I said I was going, thinking she heard me say I was getting some “nuggets.” She knows that the power windows on my Escalade almost never work, and that only the 24-hour drive-thru at Wendy’s is open at 2 in the morning, so she was nice enough to grab a golf club and come smash out the windows for me. This is something we routinely do when we know we’re taking the kids out for fast food, as it’s just easier to get a new Escalade later.

I was already at the end of the driveway when she caught up with me. She startled me so much that I ran into the tree and fire hydrant, as already reported in the news, and also a fence, an ornamental shrub, a lawn jockey, a light pole, a telephone pole, a photographer from TMZ, and a mailbox. The stress of all these collisions, and the fact that she hit me in the face with the golf club when she was done with all the windows, caused my surgically repaired knee to start throbbing, so I lay down in the street to do some lower back exercises, which almost always cause me to slip in and out of consciousness.

This is probably about the time my nosy neighbors, the Kravitzes, called the police. On this point, I want to say that I have fully cooperated with the Florida Highway Patrol in all aspects of their investigation, except for the part where I have to be awake when they arrive at my house. There’s something about knowing that the police are coming to your house that makes me really drowsy, almost as much as cuddling up in a Snuggly. The same thing happens whenever they stop me on the highway, and they’ve always seemed to understand this before.

As for my relationship with my wife, that’s not something I feel comfortable going into here, except to say you wouldn’t believe what a shrew she is. You see pictures of the woman and she looks absolutely perfect and, I’ll be the first to admit, she’s a stunning babe. But as those who have competed against me know, I’m a stickler that everything be exactly right, and she has this small mole at the base of her right index finger that makes her flawed. We’ve discussed this on many occasions and she steadfastly refuses to get a finger transplant, even though I could pay for it with my little pinky.

Now as for these scurrilous rumors that I’m seeing another woman, this VIP hostess Rachel Uchitel, I want to deny categorically there’s any truth to this. There is no way I would date someone with a last name like that. It sounds like “yuck.” That’s one of the big problems I’m having with Elin now, her name. She might try to spell it in a svelte Swedish fashion, but it’s still “Ellen” to me, and there’s just no one on the face of the earth with that name who is appealing. I’m thinking of Ellen DeGeneres or Ellen Barkin the whole time we’re together. And even though she pronounces it “ee-lin,” that doesn’t really help matters. That makes me think of the eland, a plains antelope native to southeast Africa.

A lot of people who see me on TV think that I have a temper, and wonder if this isn’t part of the story, and I suppose that it is. I will throw the occasional club if I make a bad shot, and I have been known to curse, but it’s just a sign of my competitiveness. And that’s why I’m pleased to announce at this time that I’m endorsing two new products — the Temper-Pedic family of fine mattresses and pillows, and a new golf ball I’ve helped the folks at Dunlop develop. The ball has the highest allowable compression ratio and a special dimple pattern I designed myself. I’m calling this new line the Goddam Sonofabitch Ball.

I do also want to make one correction of an earlier statement I made. It was something I believed to be true at the time but have since come to realize that it’s not quite accurate. I am now “putting all of it out there” because I don’t want there to be any hint of scandal remaining. Everything needs to be out in the sunshine.

I said earlier that I was not perfect. Frankly, that’s not true. I am perfect.

In closing, let me ask the public and especially the press to leave us alone, so we can return to our private lives. I can’t even go out of my house because of the crowd of reporters outside. I’m virtually a prisoner and I really, really, really need to get out of here.

Don’t make me run you over.


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