Tiger Woods recently published an apology letter regarding his transgressions and apologizing for his extramarital affairs.† His letter is as follows:

Dear College of Wooster campus and community,

Hopefully by my actions on the golf course, you know who I am. Iím quite arguably the greatest golfer of all time, and contentiously one of the most dominant athletes who has ever lived.

By now youíre well aware that Iíve been doing my share of sleeping around. Youíre aware of my many mistresses. Youíre aware of my insecurities. And most importantly, youíre aware that my morality has been and will always be tarnished. But Wooster, Iíve done something else; and it isnít good.

I wish I had the inner strength to make this easy to say, but here goes nothing: Iíve slept with every member of the Greek community living in Bissman Hall. While this is certainly a relief to say and while you may think this is worse than my previous set of extramarital affairs, I have my reasons. Wooster, I could just not resist.

I started with the oh-so-sultry Sigs. Their masculinity and destructive capability are too tempting for any woman or man to resist. Watching them on the football field scored touchdowns with my heart, and their powerful displays of masculinity in the weight room made me blush. The Sigs make me feel things Iíve never felt towards a group of men before. And Iíve been in the locker room at Augusta National Country Club, if you know what I mean.

My transgressions also led me astray to the Theta hall, where their sheer poise took my breath away. They may be one of the newest sororities on campus, but oh boy, they didnít act like it. All I had to say is I had hard liquor in my car and I was golden. It was that easy.

Next, the Betas. Like me, the Betas play golf, and more importantly, like to make sure everyone on the campus knows they do. Whereas I have endorsements, the Betas have Polo half-zip sweaters, popped collars and impeccably pressed pants.

But unlike me, winner of major championships, they perform in the middle of the pack when it comes to Div. III golf. Regardless, they hooked me in with the expectation of class, however it was only until later my thirst for more high society was finally reached. It could only get better.

My inept and inebriated walk around Bissman Hall during this strange time in my life took me the sweltering hallway of the ladies of Alpha Gamma Phi. So diverse. So cultured. I just had to have it. Their womanhood unmatched; their personalities so unique. They were, to me, the LPGA of Wooster Greek Life; and Iím pretty sure they could beat Michelle Wie in a nine-hole match.

Somehow I ended up in the basement of Bissman, but being on the Omega hall, I felt like I was on top of the world. Their epic flows and short-middy lacrosse sticks were too much for me to handle, but somehow I managed.

The music of Jack Johnson and Widespread Panic scared me at first, but their smooth words and flashy handshakes made me feel at ease. Also, much like the Omegas, I hit my four-iron pretty well.

My transgressions in Bissman Hall just couldnít stop. I ended up on the hall of the lovely ladies of Pi Kappa. Boy, was I in for a treat. Although I had early tee times, I spent many a late night learning about the íNuts in more ways than one. Their fantastic senses of humor and their ability to sing about their tradition are second to none. I now know the reason behind the saying, ìnobody does it like a íNut.

Next, however sad this is to admit, I ended up hanging with the manly men of Xi Chi Psi. Of course, they drew me in with their masterful abilities at Call of Duty and Halo 3. But what impressed me most was their knack to sing on key at will and the incredible mental capacity to recite to me the entire Spring 1940 edition of the Batman comic book. They latched onto my inner nerd, and my sexual deviance took over.

I then found my way over to EKO hall. Their favorite color is green, and just so happen to be one of the best putters in the world. It was a match made in heaven. Our pillow talks consisted of green-keeping strategies, and I sure as hell learned a thing or two about course management.

Lastly, I wound up on Zeta hall. All I had to do was follow the sounds of Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift ó it wasnít difficult after that. After lying to them by saying tights are a type of pants, I was in. Oh, was that a month Iíll always remember.

It pains me deep down that Iíve deprived the sanctity of my marriage. I love my wife, but thereís just so much sensuality when it comes to the groups in Bissman. Again, I understand what I did was wrong, but can you really blame me?

Sincerely,

Tiger Woods

This story was run as part of The Wooster Vice, an annual April Fools publication.† It is a work of satire.