The Life of Kings has been accused, on occasion, of being a Tiger Woods "hater" which, of course, is complete nonsense. In 1996, when I was a freshman in college, I can vividly remember watching Woods in my dorm room on a 12-inch television, five other guys gathered around me, all of us riveted as he made the turn on Sunday with a huge lead. Months before, I'd read this Sports Illustrated article by Gary Smith, and at the time, I naively thought that Woods was going to change the world.

It's didn't exactly work out the way that Earl Woods predicted that it would. Tiger Woods has not had a bigger impact than Nelson Mandela, Gandhi or Buddha, which when you think about it is OK. He is just an athlete, perhaps the most phenomenal athlete of the last 25 years, but just an athlete. He's a ruthless competitor and a perfectionist who has taught us less about race relations than he has about the pursuit of excellence and the way to handle fame. Among my friends, I argue often that this Esquire profile by Chris Jones does the best job of capturing who Tiger really is, and exploring the reasons for we obsess over every swing and every steely smile.

How would our perceptions of him be different if Tiger had decided, in addition to golfing excellence, to become the next Muhammad Ali, as his father once speculated in that profile by Smith? It's interesting to think about the ripple affect that Michael Jordan created by deciding he was an athlete first, a corporate pitchman second, and a political activist never. Woods took a cue from Jordan, and now LeBron James and even someone like Michael Phelps has taken a cue from Woods. Athletes aren't under any obligation, really, to take a stance on political issues. In fact, by not speaking up, they may be acting in a far more genuine manner than than some celebrities who spout off about issues they actually know very little about.

For a lot of people, Tiger Woods is nothing more than the best golfer on the planet, or worse, a character in a video game. I'd argue most people don't think about race at all anymore when the think about him or watch him. They just think about golf.

Is that a good thing? Does it represent progress? Or are we only willing to completely embrace Woods as long as he remains just a golfer?

While you mull that, read this Rick Reilly story from when Woods won his first Masters in 1996, or check out this piece from Slate.com about whether Woods' legacy will be hurt by his lack of a true rival and watch this collection below of Woods' highlights over the years (including, yes, the famous chip at 16 in 2005). The narration at the end is from one of the Superman movies. I'm not sure whether that's absurd ... or completely appropriate.