My husband and I were talking about Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson this weekend.
We've always had a soft spot for Mickelson. He's a local boy.
What we were talking about his how Tiger was so appealing on the surface. So trim and clean cut, with that dazzling, perfect smile. Mickelson, on the other hand, usually looks like he needs a haircut and could maybe lose a few pounds.
We had just finished watching "Sense and Sensibility" and I was thinking how Jane Austen's books always had one character who was genuinely good, and another who had the appearance of goodness. Think of Wickham and Mr. Darcy in "Pride and Prejudice." People were always taken in by the character with the appearance. Eventually, that character is revealed as a cad, and good triumphs.
Of course those are novels. But I couldn't help but think they apply to Woods and Mickelson, particularly after watching the tear roll down Mickelson's face at the end of the Masters, and the tender way he hugged his wife.
One blogger posted his photo with the caption: "This is what love looks like."
Of course, we don't ever really know celebrities. We just feel we do. And Tiger has sought recovery. Redemption is one of our favorite story lines. I hope Tiger truly finds recovery.
Here's what recovery has meant for me. The road narrows. It starts out wide, with lots of twists and turns and detours. After a while the road straightens. Lanes end. The way becomes clear. There is only one direction. The questions narrow to one: What is the right thing to do? The answers become increasingly clear.
Not always. There's still rain and fog that clouds visibility. But the road is there. Straight and true. And if we are patient and cautious enough to wait for the storm to clear, we can stay between the lines.
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