The Tiger Woods story has become a beast that cannot be fed, no matter how many bloody human entrails you stuff in its perpetually open maw.

Tiger's never-ending reach for forgiveness and redemption has been more thoroughly covered than my late grandmother's living room couch. It's turned the news into a supermarket tabloid. It's turned 'SportsCenter' into a Lifetime made-for-TV movie.

And now, with Nike's new Tiger ad, it's turned commercials, my one measly break from this love-to-hate lovefest, into another creepy, lurid, sex-soaked look at a superstar's human indiscretions.