The hardworking staff at Campaign Outsider isn’t on this earth long enough to read more than two articles about Friday’s Tigerpalooza.

But we did happen to catch a couple of pieces in the weekend Wall Street Journal.

The first piece was a basic recap of the Woodsman’s mea culpresser, complete with this handy chart:

Handy, yes?

The second piece was a flat out hoot from WSJ sports gadfly Jason Gay.

A taste:

What a predictably ridiculous scene Friday morning in Ponte Vedra Beach in Florida. Mr. Woods surfaced right after 11 a.m. Eastern Standard Time—a time when we’re usually tucking into an hour of Dr. Oz and a box of Dove bars—to stand before a velvety blue curtain seemingly purchased off Craigslist from Conan O’Brien. He wore a dark blazer, a light blue shirt with a spread collar, and, for the first time in his adult life, no corporate logos. Wake up, Nike. Your swoosh should have owned that collar.

As every mortal knows, when you dress in a dark blazer, a light blue shirt and gray slacks, it can mean only one of two things. The most likely possibility, of course, is that you’re about to umpire the National League Championship Series. The second possibility? You’re about to humbly look in a camera and seek the public’s forgiveness.

So far, it seems Tiger’s not getting it.

In any number of ways.