The Joy of Pain (31 page)

Until the late fall of 2009, Tiger Woods seemed to live a life approaching perfection. After leaving Stanford University early to turn pro, he instantly became the ascendant golfer on the professional tour. During the more than a decade of dominance that followed, there were periods when he toyed with the competition. He hit shots impossible for mere mortals, maintained an astonishing level of focus, and carried himself with singular self-assurance and poise. Unlike so many other golfers, he actually looked like an athlete. “Tiger” was of a different breed of golfer, even a different breed of man, and, at the age of 34, was within easy striking distance of eclipsing the record of 18 major golf championships long held by “The Golden Bear,” Jack Nicklaus. Woods became an international marketing phenomenon, transcending the world of golf, and the income from many lucrative endorsements propelled him into the near-billionaire class.
³
Woods enjoyed the kind of celebrity status that enabled
him to double TV ratings with his participation in a tournament.
⁴
What was known about his well-guarded personal life also added to the luster. He married a stunningly beautiful Swedish woman who was a former fashion model. He had his own charity organization, the Tiger Woods Foundation, dedicated to helping children learn and achieve. His father, Earl Woods, had been able to say with confidence that his son “will do more than any other man in history to change the course of humanity.”
⁵

But his fall from grace was quick and cataclysmic. On December 9, 2009, he was taken to a hospital for injuries suffered when he reportedly crashed his Cadillac Escalade on his property in the early morning hours.
⁶
The details of how and why this happened are unclear, but much evidence suggested that there had been a domestic dispute caused by his wife's discovery of his apparently out-of-control infidelity. Within days, multiple women claimed to have had affairs with Woods,
⁷
and Woods himself, under the pressure of burgeoning evidence, admitted to betraying his marriage vows
⁸
and voluntarily took a leave of absence from golf to get his personal life in order. In a press conference, he apologized for selfishly hurting his wife, family, friends, and fans.
⁹

This was no ordinary fall, and the tabloid media leapt on this story. As a milestone in the history of
schadenfreude
, the misfortunes of Tiger Woods surely surpass the troubles of Martha Stewart. Indeed, the
National Enquirer
was largely responsible for initially exposing Woods's infidelities,
¹⁰
but it was deemed fair game for just about every respected news outlet and internet venue.
¹¹
The general interest in this story was broad and relentless, and
schadenfreude
was infused through many public reactions. Soon came the jokes.
¹²
“Tiger” was now the “Cheetah.”
¹³
The late-night talk show writers took full advantage, and the blogosphere abandoned all constraint.
¹⁴

Don Ohlmeyer, a longtime innovator in television sports and entertainment generally, was working at the time as an ombudsman for ESPN, the major sports network channel. His job was to provide independent analysis of the business of producing sports television at ESPN, and he found himself addressing how the network dealt with the indiscretions of athletes, with Tiger Woods heading the list. It was clear that viewers wanted to know everything about these indiscretions. Ohlmeyer struggled to think through the difficult balancing act of maintaining high journalistic standards while also feeding the
monster that paid the bills. The tabloids and talk shows fired up their engines to serve a public that delights in the troubles of the rich, famous, and powerful, and then ESPN and other “mainstream media tag along.”
¹⁵
Ohlmeyer noted that the bottom line of needing to serve the insatiable appetites of the public meant that ESPN had to keep its headlights on the story, just like pretty much everyone else. Coverage focusing on the misbehavior of Woods was what viewers wanted. Many ESPN.com articles about Woods attracted an enormous increase in viewer traffic compared to the average article. It seemed impossible to withhold reporting the details of Woods's story in light of this. Ohlmeyer, whose experience and role as ombudsman give him considerable credibility, concluded that “
Schadenfreude
… seems to be a contagion afflicting many media outlets and their consumers.”
¹⁶

One theme that I've carried through this book is that misfortunes befalling others can bring us pleasure because, sometimes, we benefit from these misfortunes—more than we are aware of or willing to admit. I argued in
Chapter 3
that this is true most obviously in competitive situations when a rival suffers. We can easily infer that many other golfers on the professional tour might have been secretly pleased by Woods's troubles. It is hard enough to win a professional tournament, especially a coveted Major tournament, but the chances of winning were reduced to small odds indeed when Woods was playing. Some golfers may have cursed the fates to have their careers overlap with the reign of Tiger Woods. His fall from grace provided an opening.

As natural as it may be to feel
schadenfreude
, I have also emphasized that most of us are not quite sure that we ought to feel it, or at least disclose feeling it. I can only suspect that other golfers felt happy over Woods's troubles. I am unaware of any golfer, at least in interviews for the national press, who openly expressed
schadenfreude
. Most people are uncomfortable with admitting
schadenfreude
, generally, but particularly if it seems inspired by a selfish motive. It is
verboten.
Some on the pro tour acknowledged the obvious: that their own rankings might rise in the wake of Woods's troubles. British golfer Lee Westwood noted that Woods's situation made a higher ranking for himself more within reach.
¹⁷
At the time he made the comment, he was ranked number 3 in the world, behind Woods at number 1 and Phil Mickelson at number 2.

I have underscored throughout this book that the way we compare with others plays an important role in our self-esteem and in our emotional life. Competition itself is a kind of social comparison process. If we had no capacity to make social comparisons, then we would have no sense of what rivalry means. It is largely through social comparisons that we understand who has won and who has lost and through which we infer the levels of our abilities and talents. Social comparisons are important building blocks for self-assessments, self-evaluations, and the emotions enmeshed with these judgments.

Woods's remarkable success on the golf course and the way he seemed to realize perfection in almost every way a person can do so provided an acute contrast for most people, even if they were not interested in golf. Although some people might have been inspired by Woods, perhaps more felt diminished. Those plagued by envy surely found some measure of joy in his fall from grace. And, as inspiring as he might have been, many of us would have preferred to be him rather than be in awe of him. For golfers in particular, Woods probably changed the standards by which they judged themselves. This also fits with the role of social comparisons in how we judge our abilities and talents. Because of his physique alone, many on the pro tour would look at themselves in the mirror and conclude that they failed to measure up even before taking a swing. Often, it seemed as though, when Woods was playing, all the other golfers were playing for second. Ireland's Padraig Harrington, reminiscing about Woods's 15-stroke victory in the 2000 U.S. Open, said, “I was there … I was playing in the other tournament.”
¹⁸
Ernie Els, paired with Woods in the final round and with two U.S. Open championships to his own credit at that juncture, noted, “It seems like we're not playing in the same ballpark right now. … When he's on, you don't have much of a chance.”
¹⁹

The scandal around Woods's affairs reduced that contrast between him and other golfers. At the news conference where Woods, once such a colossus, apologized, he was reduced to humbler dimensions. The stunning personal and professional dimensions to this humbling undoubtedly registered with golfers and other people across the board. Some may have felt mostly pity and disappointment,
²⁰
but others are likely to have felt to some degree boosted by the event.

As I have also stressed throughout this book, many instances of
schadenfreude
can be explained by envy. We are most likely to envy people who do better in
areas important to us—those in the same line of work and with similar aspirations. Envy is more intense and more hostile when it represents a frustrated particular desire.

There is little doubt that envy of Tiger Woods could make some people feel
schadenfreude
over his misfortune. For many pro golfers, of course, Woods was no ordinary unflattering social comparison—he had all the features that would create strong, potentially hostile envy. No doubt Woods left a trail of frustrated, envious golfers in his wake as he racked up win after win, usually in dominating fashion, sometimes humiliating his competition—because they sometimes seemed to choke under pressure. Becoming a pro golfer is no easy process; golf is an extremely difficult game, and the competition to get on and to stay on tour is fierce. Nonetheless, I imagine that most felt like they were playing Salieri to Woods's Mozart.

I highlighted in
Chapters 9
and
10
that people will rarely admit to envy, particularly the hostile kind. Because of his apparently sterling moral qualities, it was especially unacceptable to express hostile envy of Woods; it would have come across as mean and spiteful. Ironically, exactly because other pro golfers would be most primed for
schadenfreude
—because of their gain, because of a relief from a painful, envy-producing social comparison—I suspect that they were unwilling to express it openly. This was left to the tabloids, the late-night talk shows, the blogosphere, and other venues.

Another important factor in understanding public reaction to Woods's fall had to do with whether it seemed deserved. Deserved misfortunes produce more
schadenfreude
than undeserved misfortunes, another frequent theme in this book. We are pleased when a person gets his just desserts, even if it means that he'll suffer intensely as a result. The fact that Woods was solely responsible for his own downfall was a constant feature in many voiced reactions. Interestingly, a year before his extramarital affairs were revealed, Woods had taken a leave from the game because of a knee injury and the surgery it required. This may have pleased some, at least privately, for reasons we know well, but the general tenor of public reactions among golfers and fans was outwardly sympathetic. This dramatically changed following the revelations of infidelity, especially as the number and nature of his affairs quickly came to light.
²¹
His duplicity seemed extreme. After the birth of his son, he had placed a photo on his Web site with
his baby and wife, suggesting perfect marital bliss. Woods had been extremely careful at crafting an image of a perfect life while apparently having affair after affair. The crafted image was clearly false. Did he begin to believe his father's prediction that he would “do more than any other man in history to change the course of humanity”?
²²
When the information about the affairs surfaced, most people thought that he deserved the negative consequences—and were pleased.

It could have been worse for Woods. He was not someone to criticize others for their misbehaviors. His fault was in raising himself high rather than pointing out the failings of others. He was nonetheless faulted for maintaining an illusion of spotless living and for letting down those who believed in him. Other golfers spoke of Woods's deserving the negative publicity. The South African Ernie Els, who had been so completely humbled by Woods when they had been paired with each other in the 2000 U.S. Open, criticized the timing of the press conference at which Woods gave his apology. It overlapped with the start of a tournament in which Woods was no longer participating, thus hurting the sponsors. “It's selfish,” said Ernie Els to
Golfweek Magazine
. “You can write that.”
²³
In
Chapter 6
, I argued that the perception of the deservingness of a misfortune is more acute when we have felt personally mistreated. Els, although highly accomplished in his own right and admired on and off the links,
²⁴
may have felt a measure of personal humiliation over his U.S. Open drubbing, but there may have another reason. Although Woods rarely criticized other golfers, there was at least one exception. In September 2009, Woods was asked about how Els was responding to surgery to repair a torn anterior cruciate ligament (ACL). Woods, who had just gone through the same surgery, praised Els, but then noted: “Ernie is not a big worker physically and that's one of the things you have to do with an ACL injury. I feel pretty good with what I've done and I think Ernie could have worked a little bit harder.”
²⁵
Not only did he suggest Els was a bit lazy, he also contrasted Els's behavior with his own. For Els, the comparison must have hurt. In my opinion, it would be asking too much of Els not to feel a touch of
schadenfreude
when Woods's troubles emerged. I should
emphasize
Els's sterling qualities. When he was accepting the trophy for winning the 2012 British Open, he took time to thank former South African President Nelson Mandela (who had just turned 94) for what he had done for South Africa.
²⁶
This was a stirring moment.

The comments of Jesper Parnevik, another pro golfer, also stand out. When Woods crashed his SUV, it was reported that Elin Nordegren, Woods's then-wife, used a golf club to break open a window so that she could extricate him from the car. Parnevik suggested that Nordegren “use a driver next time instead of a 3-iron.” Why? In 2000, Parnevik and his wife had employed Nordegren as a nanny and had introduced her to Woods in 2001. Three years later, they were married. Parnevik, in some small way responsible for their marriage, felt sorry for her. He took Woods's betrayal of Elin personally. He said, “We probably thought he was a better guy than he is.”
²⁷