The Mike Vrabel mess and why it reminds us of the first Tiger Woods scandal

Since it was Dan Jenkins, everyone wrote it off as just another clever line from a guy who delivered them like Santa tossing candy canes.

It was 25 years ago, in the pages of Golf Digest, when Jenkins became a prophet (twice-over, in fact).

“Only two things can stop Tiger Woods,” he wrote. “Injury or a bad marriage.”

Seven years later, the first serious and sidelining injury arrived, and a year after that came the other half of Jenkins’ double-whammy — self-induced by Tiger, we all learned.

And that brings to mind another Dan Jenkins dandy, from one of his many works of fiction, “Life its Ownself,” where Billy Joe Puckett explains such things in a manner unsuited for polite society.

“Compared to a bad marriage, leukemia is butterscotch pudding.”

Mike Vrabel

Why we shouldn't, and should, care about the Mike Vrabel-Dianna Russini situation

In a nicer, simpler world, no one would give a damn whether or not Mike Vrabel agrees with that. It’s truly none of our business, and it’s disgusting yet predictable how his relationship with reporter Dianna Russini has played out publicly.

Right about now, we might be due for a however. Yep …

However, a whole lot of Americans consider football to very much be our business. We invest emotion, allegiance and (ahem) sometimes bits of currency on it. And Mike Vrabel is the most important piece of one of football’s most important franchises — recent dynasty and last season’s Super Bowl runner-up, the New England Patriots.

Aside from gossipy speculation — or speculative gossip — regarding the stuff that’s none of our business, how does this compare to the long-ago Tiger Woods situation? Glad you asked.

The biggest part of Tiger Woods’ golfing dominance was his golfing greatness, which alone wouldn’t have been enough if not for his other-worldly ability to produce his best golf under the highest heat. But there was always something else in play — intimidation.

Grandpa can tell you stories about Bob Gibson, who had all the requisite pitches to make him great, but possessed an aura that took him a notch beyond merely great. Whether he was borrowing from Gibby or not, Tiger had that.

Not unlike Ben Hogan way before him, Tiger would barely acknowledge other golfers, even playing partners, during tournament play. He had no equal, carried himself that way, and to get the very best out of himself, probably felt he had to.