To borrow Tiger Woods' euphemism, athletes "transgress" so often that the candor of a confession can, when played right, trump the severity of the sin. Woods shanked his apology, practically inviting us to gawk as sponsors bury his ads and a succession of alleged paramours peddle accounts of their trysts. "I have not been true to my values," he told us. Probably so, but what exactly were those values? Other than green jackets, what does Tiger prize? This is, after all, one of the world's most secretive athletes: a billionaire who christened his yacht Privacy, a star who shrank from the spotlight while building sport's most lucrative brand. For years his statements have been as bland and scripted as his Sunday tournament garb. But even with his myth punctured and his personal life in tatters, Tiger can still lean on his talent. As much as we love tearing down our idols, we're suckers for tales of redemption, and one Sunday next year, Woods will hoist another trophy. At that point, perhaps we can admire the achievement without deifying the athlete — and stop mistaking public prowess for private virtue.