Tiger Woods' plight: perhaps Barry Bonds can relate

Woods tips his cap at the PGA Championships Aug. 13, 2009. Charlie Riedel/AP

BARRY BONDS MIGHT have some advice for Tiger Woods.

The former All-Star slugger knows what it's like to have an 'unfavorable' rating in opinion polls. Bonds has been heckled from the on-deck circle and the outfield grass. The former super star went through a very public divorce complete with a record-setting alimony ruling, and has since divorced a second time. Bonds watched silently as a mistress — though only one that we know of — added another stain to his beleaguered reputation. And baseball's all-time home run king certainly knows how it feels to be linked to performance enhancing drugs.

It's pretty clear that Tiger and Barry have more in common than we might have guessed at first glance.

Both were raised from a young age to be elite athletes — Bonds by his father, a Major League All-Star Bobby Bonds, and Tiger by his task-master father, Earl Woods. Each enjoyed tremendous individual success from a young age, and both were arguably the best, or at the very least among the best, of their respective sports for a generation. Tiger and Barry each have, or had, less than warm relationships with the media and their public. And now each of their reputations, inevitably, will be marred by issues away from athletics.

Where the two most differ isn't in who they are, but in who we thought they were.

Bonds, long scarred by the memories of his father's icy relationship with reporters, never aimed to please the media, or anyone for that matter, and it cost him dearly in terms of endorsements and public opinion. Woods on the other handed sought out the advice of people like Michael Jordan, in hopes of cultivating a corporate-friendly persona that would net him a fortune along with adoring galleries.

At the age of 33, Woods became the first billionaire athlete, due by and large to his massive sum of endorsements from companies like Nike, Cadillac, Gillette, Accenture, and Gatorade just to name a few. These riches were bestowed upon him for a combination of reasons. First, they came because Tiger's image was that of a clean-cut, well-intentioned, disciplined, fit, feared and respected athlete. But, secondly, and most importantly, Woods earned his opulence because he won Majors.

Winning in golf is not analogous to winning in baseball. Had Bonds enjoyed the equivalent career in an individual sport it would be hard to calculate where he would have ranked. And had Woods played baseball or football it's fair to assume he wouldn't have what's commensurate with the 14 major championships he's won in golf. 

Unlike Tiger, Bonds can come home to his fans at AT&T Park. Jeff Chiu/AP

But what makes the comparison between Bonds and Tiger more fascinating — or perhaps disappointing — is the issue of performance enhancing drugs.

It's unfair to cast these accusations onto Tiger with such flimsy evidence, but after what we've witnessed in baseball, football, the Olympics, and bicycling, it's impossible to ignore it completely. And the public is prone to charge guilt merely with association.

Were Tiger scrutinized like Bonds, or many other athletes, the link to a doctor who is under investigation for distribution of PED's would be evidence enough. And the failing of the what I like to call the 'baseball card test' would be Exhibit-A. That test has officially begun.

Los Angeles Times' columnist Bill Plaschke wrote Wednesday that that the idea of Tiger doping crossed his mind before.

“Two years ago, after following Tiger Woods down the fairway for a couple of days at the U.S Open at Oakmont, I confided to friends an observation that seemed too absurd for public consumption. From the back, the dude looked like Barry Bonds. His neck was oddly wide. His shoulders were absurdly broad. His biceps were busting out of a tight shirt.” (click here for the article).

Everyone looked at Bonds' rookie cards from 1986, or even photos from his early days in San Francisco, concluding that the hulking slugger was undoubtedly receiving chemical assistance. After all, this was a man we knew as a villain: Bonds was despised in ball parks long before he hit 73 homers and the veins on his forearms resembled ropes.

Yet still, it wasn't until after Bonds' record-busting season of 2001 — a season that took place amidst constant steroid allegations — that the slugger began to enjoy commercial success. In 2002 Bonds and Jason Alexander pitched KFC's popcorn chicken. Then, in a spot that premiered during the 2002 Super Bowl, Bonds and Henry Aaron went to bat for the brokerage firm Charles Schwab.

In Tiger's case, the athlete we knew, or the athlete we thought we knew, was far too image-savvy, too disciplined and simply too great to require any extra help — steroids were out of the question.

But the Tiger the world knew just last Thanksgiving is not the one we know today — and let's admit it: that one never existed. That Tiger Woods was no different than the air-brushed Victoria's Secret Angels, cultivated merely in the spirit of capitalism to sell a fantasy.

Tiger's also currently the No. 1 tabloid sensation, it's a title that will cost him. Lefteris Pitarakas/AP.

We're finally seeing the real Tiger Woods.

Lucky for him, Woods will have ample time to return to the course, reclaim his dominance and blur the memories of the past month (or however long it takes him to get back to golf). If he so desires, Tiger can play on the PGA another 16 years, at least, and on the Champions Tour even beyond that.

In the end, Woods will get a second chance at something Bonds never took advantage of in the first place, and something the ballplayer didn't have the chance to do later — the chance to rebuild his image. All it will take for Tiger is a Green Jacket and some time before we tell ourselves that 'this is the Tiger Woods we know,' or 'this is the Tiger we remember.'

Why? Because it's easier than rooting for the Tiger Woods we've just met.

That, and there's far too much product to be moved that the corporations can't possibly sell by themselves.

At the earliest estimates, Woods has already cost the PGA Tour, the TV networks and merchandisers $220 million. This can't last. And so, Tiger's image will be re-cultivated, his brand will be re-tooled, and his name will again be synonymous with champion. Some marketing guru with a big corner office will roll-out the next version of Tiger Woods. And that Tiger Woods' image will be even sharper than the blade on his Gillette razor, more air-tight than his Nike Dri-fit apparel, it will gleam like the rims on his Escalade, it will pop like the face of his driver after a well struck shot, and it will be as well-crafted as his Tag-Heuer watch.