If one thing can be said about Tiger Woods, it’s that people care.

The morning of his apology, I received text after text telling me to turn to ESPN to watch him speak.

I sat there, from 11 to 11:15, listening for something, anything, that would incite a feeling of sympathy, of understanding, even of forgiveness.

Unfortunately, it seemed that in the past two months Tiger learned nothing from his ordeal.

He regressed back into the man who always needed to be in complete control of every situation.

Rather than bullet-points or scribbled notes, he read a prepared speech, frequently using clichés and automated responses, instead of speaking from the heart.

He said all the right things – he was irresponsible, he had been selfish. Of course, he also said he was sorry.

Yet, it was in a speech rather than an interview, the usual choice of the disgraced sports star.

That right there was mechanical in nature.

There was no chance for ad-libbed feelings or  emotion of any kind.

He just read and read and read, and when he attempted to shed a tear or pause for effect, it just seemed empty and rehearsed.

Finally, when he was finished speaking, he didn’t take any questions, missing any chance to seem spontaneous or even human.

He was basically telling the world, “Look, I’m going to come clean, just under my terms.”

If I’m going to watch a machine perform, I’d rather it be on the golf course, winning title after title, rather than trying to convince me how sorry he is.

Before all is said and done, we will undoubtedly be fed more staged photos, additional rehab stories and even the obligatory interview with someone who wouldn’t dare ask any hard hitting questions.

And then, when the dust finally settles, like A-rod and Barry before him, Tiger will go back to doing what he does best.

We just have to endure the weeks, maybe months, in between.