Draft: Tiger's Players Tribune Poem That Never Was

As Brian Wacker noted at PGATour.com, the Tiger-Kobe parallels are pretty incredible. So it's little coincidence that they seem to be saying goodbye around the same time.

Even more eerie? That Tiger sat down to pen a poem for The Players Tribune, only to be beaten to the punch by felling contributing editor Kobe Bryant.

Mercifully, I was able to get a draft of Tiger's poem, which was oddly similar to Kobe's in structure. Here goes. The ultra-exclusive to GeoffShackelford.com...

Dear Golf
by Tiger Woods (almost)

From the Moment
I started rooting for my dad’s missed putts
And making imaginary
Putts to overtake Y.E. Yutz
And appeared on the Mike Douglas Show
I know one thing was real:

I fell in love with you as a way to make a lot of alimony and hush money.

A love so deep I gave you my all —
My leg, my knee, my shoulder
And eventually my back three times each time I visit Dr. Rich a whole lot older.

As a young boy
In love with the game
I never saw a time I could not beat Brandel with eyes closed left-handed
I only saw myself
Winning major after major

And so I practiced
Running like a Navy Seal
Hitting every loose ball on the chipping green
From Butch to Hank to Sean to Dr. Galea to Chris
I gave you my heart
Because it came with so much more cash

I played through sweat, a broken leg, even pro-ams
Not because drug testing was the following week
But because Jack’s record called me, and so did Phil Knight
I did everything for that record
Because that’s what you do, Steiny squeals
When someone makes you feel
As alive as bonus checks made me “feels”

You gave a six-year-old boy his Masters dream
And my accountants will always love you for it
But, I can’t love you obsessively for much longer
This season is about the big payment I have to make to Elin yonder
My heart can take the grinding
My mind can handle the missed cuts
But my wallet won’t let me say goodbye

And that’s ok
I’m almost ready to let golf go
I want you to know that now that January’s payment is coming
So we can savor the moments before I shuttle Kevin Kisner to Ryder Cup dining
The good and the bad
We have given each other
All that we have, almost.

And we both know, no matter how many times Tim Finchem calls
I’ll always be Pop’s kid
Making his putts
Chasing the Golden Bear
Taking dead aim
Saying It Is What It Is
Fist Pumping to the Skies
The Second best Golfer of all time

Love you always,
Eldrick “Tiger” “Tont” Woods