Ever since Tiger Woods was villainized for dogging on his wife, he’s sucked donkey balls at golf. My favorite part of the whole cheating saga was how the golf media tried to diagnose him with a “sex addiction,” neglecting to acknowledge the fact that any straight man with a penis and an ounce of testosterone would be a “sex addict” if he received a slither of the sexual opportunities from dime pieces that Tiger has.
The initial smear campaign by the media mixed in with a few injuries here and there has caused Tiger to plummet from the #1 golfer in the world to the #258 golfer internationally. The golf world is BEGGING for a Tiger comeback, indicative in the “Is Tiger Back??” headlines after every shot he hits that doesn’t go into the woods.
But time is running thin on the once widely considered greatest of all time, so Hannibal Burress decided to do a little field reporting to check the social temperature on Tiger’s legacy in none of than golf capital of the world: South Central Los Angeles. Spoiler Alert: they could give a fuck less about Tiger Woods.
“The serial number on a condom, have you ever seen that? Well you probably don’t have to roll it down that far.”