I've been thinking a lot about Tiger Woods lately. Not about when he's coming back to play golf. Not about whether he can repair the damage done to his marriage. Not about whether any of his sponsors are going to come back.

What's got me thinking is wondering how in the world his wild child side stayed a secret for so long. The mind boggles thinking about the big secret.

Think about the people who knew that Woods was not the clean cut, single minded, husband and father and golfer he wanted us to think he was.

To start with, there are 12 or 13 or 50 women who did the Tiger Tango with Woods.

Some of them were ongoing affairs and there are probably some one-night stands in there. Does anyone honestly think Tiger didn't have any one-night stands? All of these women kept their mouths shut. And it's not like Tiger was dancing with a bunch of women judges or nuns or something. These were cocktail waitresses and porn stars and hostesses.

Gossip is almost as important to these women as silicone. They love gossip. Gossip is their coin of the realm. But nobody said anything. Amazing, huh?

Then there are the hotel people.

One of the things about cheating husbands is that they become pretty familiar with out of the way motels and hotels. I mean, you need a bed for all of this, after all. Now, I don't think Tiger checked into the Rooms-By-The-Hour Motel on 6th Street. But hotels obviously played a part.

So at all of these hotels we have valets, desk clerks, people who deliver room service, wandering hotel guests, bellmen, doormen, barmen and other men. I can't imagine that none of them noticed this tall, athletic black guy wearing sunglasses, a Nike warm-up suit and a fedora getting into an elevator, surrounded by big guys with black suits and wires coming out of their ears. None of those people said anything. Amazing, huh?

Now to the fancy nightclubs in New York, Las Vegas and his hometown of Orlando.

There's Tiger, a cocktail in one hand, a big fat cigar in another, with his arms around two hotties who have been hanging around the place for six months waiting for just this moment in their lives. There are friends, some he's had for years and others he just made that night.

Tiger loved to prowl at night. The liquor flows freely. Bartenders and waitresses get big, big tips. I mean big tips. As in the tips are bigger than the bill. Some of these girls got lucky. Others went home alone to their cats. But nobody said anything. Amazing, huh?

Now to the other golfers on the PGA Tour.

Tiger was an animal apart from the pack. He didn't even go into the locker room to change into his spikes. Occasionally he'd say, "how ya' doing?" But that's about it. Don't you think that somebody on the tour, a player or a caddy might have wondered what made Tiger so damn strange? It's like working with Howard Hughes. You've just got to find out. The two most important things on the PGA Tour are the golf swing and the rumors. There had to be rumors. But nobody said anything. Amazing, huh?

Now to his wife, Elin.

What in the world was she thinking? Especially at night when Tiger said he was leaving his quadrillion-dollar estate for a while with his friends. Did she think he was going to hit balls or watch a Magic game? Then he'd roll in at 4 a.m., smelling like Drambuie or Scotch or 100-year-old Cognac.

By all accounts Elin is a smart woman. Didn't she think that there was something odd about all of this? She knew what golfers were like. Chasing girls is the third most popular activity on the PGA Tour behind putting and shining your white belt. Watch any golf tournament and you'll see the girls lining the gallery ropes, dressed in shorts and hoping to catch the attention of a young, hot player. And a lot of players are easy marks. Elin knew all about this, so how could she ignore all the evidence and not say a thing? Amazing, huh?

Cheating husbands are a breed apart. They like the dark, like at At Random on Milwaukee's South Side. They like alleys and motels nobody has ever heard about. Their biggest fear is getting caught. Not Tiger, though.

His biggest fear, apparently, was that the supply of blonde porn stars might run out. He was worried that one his dolls might call his cell phone at an inappropriate time, like Thanksgiving dinner with his mom and mother-in-law. He was worried about having an early morning tee time that might make him go to bed earlier than he wanted to. He was worried about controlling things with his money, his friends and his sycophants. And control things he did, at least for a little while.

Amazing, huh?