Tiger Woods cheats. World stops.

On the way back from dropping the kids off at school this morning, I found myself listening to two sexagenarian radio guys practically drooling over their microphones as they examined, in excruciating detail, every last aspect of Tiger Woods. They'd get more excited as they covered each phase of this so-called story: The accident, the allegations, the affair, the impending acknowledgment, etc.

I felt myself almost throwing up in my mouth a little at the sickening tone of the show, and came darn near pulling the car over in disgust. Instead I flipped on some tunes and continued my journey home.

Now that Mr. Woods has confirmed that he's cheated on his wife, the wires are burning with the so-called news. I still feel like throwing up in my mouth at the feeding frenzy of coverage and the ease with which so-called professional media folks slip into little more than sleaze-covered gossip.

At the end of the day, the guy cheated on his wife, and now it's up to him and his family to move on from this very human tragedy. It would sure be nice if the rest of us didn't spend so much time pushing for more details of the Tigergate Affair. It would sure be nice if we, as a society, learned to put sports in its proper place. The guy plays golf. Yes, he plays it better than anyone of his generation, and the focus that he brings to his game holds lessons that transcend the golf course.

But still, he plays a game for a living. He isn't G-d. And the world doesn't have to stop spinning simply because he screwed up in real life. Perhaps we might want to stop mounting folks like him on pedestals.

Or perhaps we'll simply never learn. The future - for him, for us and for other sports/entertainment demigods - probably holds more inexplicable, self-inflicted implosions, and more tempests masquerading as breaking news. And an increasingly ravenous global audience will continue to get off on this stuff. Makes me more than a little sad that this is the way it's become.