Because, after all, an apology was the only thing I really needed from you in the first place. I didn't need your explanations, or your gifts, or your sad-faces. I didn't need the histrionics or the blaming or even the Nike merchandise. I just wanted you to take personal responsibility for whatever it was you did.

We both know that we had an agreement that you would place your family above all else--even The Game (I mean the rapper The Game, not the game of golf or EA Sports' Tiger Woods PGA Tour or even the game of Monopoly, I mean, come on, all those things were there first).

I'm not sure what you did, but I'm positive that you will reveal it to me in due time since we all know you can't keep a secret from me. But in the meantime, a nebulous apology makes me feel better for the personal distress the possibility that you have not been a model father and husband has caused me.

It positively ruined my Thanksgiving to learn that you had maybe potentially done something bad and at the very least messed up your car. But moreover, I am disappointed to learn that you are the first professional athlete in the history of the world to give into temptation. Every night when I went to bed with my husband I said "I hope we can only have as strong a relationship as Tiger Woods and his wife have." After all, you play golf. You have such nice teeth. How could you possibly have let me down in this way?

My faith was almost shaken--I was starting to think that I was maybe becoming jaded, just assuming that athletes, movie stars and yes, even my beloved politicians (I love them all!) were vulnerable to cheap and easy sex, but your apology proved to me that you really care what I think and that you won't do it again. I will continue to uphold the same standards for all the other famous men I've never met whose marriages I like to know are doing well.

I am mollified by your apology, because it means that you know you have hurt the person who matters most in this situation: me. And you're taking responsibility for it. I'm just glad that your sponsors have held on to you, because god knows what would happen if the money stopped coming in, although I am a little bit worried that by continuing to endorse you, Nike, Gillette and all the rest are inherently telling the world that women are just objects and the institution of marriage is a farce. But I am sure that they are working hard to ensure that, like you, they address how I, Claire Zulkey, feel about whatever it is that you did.