Can't Compete With Tiger - J Chris Newberg

Okay, so anyone who knows me, knows that I am a fan of the ladies. Now, before I go any further, and unless you have been living in a dungeon or parts of Western Kentucky for the past few days, then you have heard about the the extra curricular activities of a certain golfer and his trinity of super babes. Great! Okay then, good talk. Back to me.

I used to frequent the Saddle Ranch on Sunset. I like it because the bar is circular and in addition to beautiful bar and wait staff, it's easy to get a drink. One time, I met this stunning bartender named Jaimee. She was disturbingly attractive and one of the nicest girls I have ever met. I asked her out. She smiled and said no, but in such a way that I was convinced that my persistence would eventually land her heart.

As I continued coming in, we became friendly and then I eventually got her phone number AND her myspace info. Score! This was in the days before twitter, and facebook was still the the junior varsity of social networking sites. All seemed so promising. Or was it?

Now just because I got her number meant very little, because I had yet to land a date. I called and I called and I texted and then one day, she actually answered or returned my call. Things were looking up. Not really, because a girl this fabulous has a certain level of trust tests you must pass before you get to bat. I didn't care, because I was in the, "Oh yes she will be mine," stage of adoration. Usual conversations went like this:

Ring...
Her: Hello
Me: (genuine surprise) Wow, you answered. Nice
Her: Shut up.
Me: (nervously) Okay..
Her: So What's up?
Me: Nothing, Want to go out on this day? (thinking or any time day/night ever?)
Her: Oooh...That sounds fun. No, I have to go to San Diego. Call me later k? Bye(click)
Me: (to myself)Dude, she so said call her! (to self again) Who am I talking to?

This went on for quite some time and I would continue to visit her at work. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. She was a hot girl, that not only gave me the occasional free drink, she also knew my name and I had her phone number. This wasn't Saddle Ranch, this was heaven and I was on the VIP list.

Then that magical day game, she and I went out. I felt like Mike Ditka on draft day, I had my Ricky Williams and now I was going fishing. The date was a solid five on the million scale. Maybe I was too nervous, but we just didn't connect romantically. We did, however, remain friends. We would talk time and time again and finally I mustered up the courage to ask her out once more. We went out again and this time it was better. I made her laugh and we talked well, I thought I had a real shot, but I could tell she was preoccupied. Another dude perhaps? 10? I mean she must be pursued often. She was a knockout, But hey! I am funny and I have been on basic cable and late night TV, so I was most certainly better than ANYONE else. Ha!

Me: I really like you. Let's go out again
Her: Yeah... No. I can't
Me: Why? Are you seeing someone else? I am better. Who is it?
Her: (laughing) He's kinda famous. An athlete.

Time out -

At this point, I am thinking some Laker or a Clipper. No problem, those guys are punks. I start thinking confidently like all men in pursuit of female happiness do, I am still better!

Time in-

Me: Athletes suck. Who is it, I will be way nicer to you.
Her: Umm..It's Tiger Woods

Time out-

WTF! What are the odds!? That's not even fair

Time In-

Me: Yeah.... That dude is better. He wins. F Me.


I am not one to not kiss and tell, because I so tried to kiss her. I mean, who wouldn't? Look at her. I will however, say that I knew then she was keeping track of their discussions because she told me that and some other fun stuff as well. I also assumed it was a matter of time before she went public with it.

Did she love him? Did she do the wrong or right thing? Not the issue. The issue is this: It's hard enough for a guy to land a hot girl who is also nice in this town.

It's not hard when your competition is some androgonous unemployed actor named Rev, but it's fricken impossible when it's arguably the most famous athlete in the world. Come on dude! I was okay with you when you won tons of tourneys. I was fine with you when married an amazing woman and I even let my jealousy stay quiet when I heard that you made 100 million a year. Wanna know when it got personal for me? Wanna know when it got weird? When you stole the girl that I probably would have lost to Rev anyway. That's when. Dick.

So Miss Grubbs, I do not envy your current hurricane of attention or army of pap stalkers, but hey maybe you think it's neat? I just want to say to you that I will still totally take you back (read: or go see you at work), but Tiger... You and I are done bro. I will eventually forgive, but not today. Oh, and Tiger, if you randomly pursue my next lady, I am so unfriending on facebook. I am I am I am J Chris Newberg