Sneaking out of the house, my tired dogs hit the pedals and drove across town to a local New Balance store for a little "strange" and what can only be called a rather expensive late night "footy" call.

Who I really am pointing the finger at, once again, is us: the consumers. Are we going to go along for this ride with Tiger Woods? Are we going to play stooges again?

Now we know how Nike plans to hang on to its golden-egg-laying goose who disruptively flashed naked tail feathers to the world. It's kind of brilliant, if shameless. I know I'm getting hustled, but I still went back and watched it a few times.

Why on earth would Woods involve his father in the latest step of his carefully stage-managed public mea culpa -- his dead father, not to put too fine a point on it?

Lebron James filed paperwork with the NBA to change his uniform number from No. 23 to No. 6. Get ready for the merchandise explosion in both old and new Lebron James paraphernalia.

Sending Tiger into the world with a 24/7 sex cop may successfully entomb him as a prisoner of desire. It may save his marriage. But, much more to the point, it will save the crazy huge profit Tiger generates for Nike.