- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Most people disagree with F. Scott Fitzgerald. Virtually all Americans believe in the "do-over."

It remains one of the several similarities between two great American pastimes -- politics and sport.

Those who have lived at the nexus of the two see these similarities all the time.

Politics have candidates; sports have athletes. Politics have campaign managers; sports have coaches. The accompany staff structures parallel each other, with assistants, scouts and public-relation flaks.

Politicians count votes; athletes count points. And both groups believe fervently in the chance for starting over and coming back from defeat.

The similarities include the status extended to politicians and star athletes. They are treated as celebrities, not just leaders in their field.

The hoi polloi will treat stars' opinions with greater respect than that given specialists in a field.

And that is one of the reasons Tiger Woods' expansive apology was carried live on so many television networks. People were going to watch and listen to him, and networks really like an audience.

The media Powers That Be did the same thing for former Sen. John Edwards when he did his mea culpa in Chapel Hill. The similarities between two successful, charismatic celebrities -- one in sports and one in politics -- and how they are treated could not have been clearer.

At the Franklin Street offices of a certain local newspaper, most staffers gathered in front of the TV set minutes before Mr. Woods appeared in front of the cameras Friday morning. Virtually all others rushed to join them once he began speaking.

This wasn't like the explosion of NASA's Challenger shuttle, or the collapse of the World Trade Towers, events that even now enable many people to recall exactly where they were when they first heard of the tragedies.

But Mr. Woods' recitation of sins captured people's attention for the moment.

He apologized profusely and repeatedly, and many viewers, about 60 percent, thought him sincere. Others may not have.

In fact, many TV pundits were picking at the Tiger well in advance of his televised remarks. "It won't do him any good," seemed to be a common theme. What many viewers of these commentators actually heard was, "Why won't he let me have an exclusive interview?"

Envy is as bad a sin as lust. But most of these critics will never see the plank in their eye as long as thy can gripe about someone else's splinters.

But, for most viewers, Mr. Woods seemed to have done enough.

His confessions weren't exactly the stuff of St. Augustine. At some points, he wandered dangerously close to Richard Nixon's Checkers material; for example, when he invoked his wife's good name and the security of his children. It had a slight echo of Mrs. Nixon's "respectable Republican cloth coat."

But only an echo.

Mr. Woods' apologies -- to his wife, his family, fans, sponsors and just about everyone within earshot of a television -- accomplished his goals for the most part. Assuming his goals were to achieve No. 9 in the standard 12-step recovery program and to get on with his life.

He wants to, and might, restore some semblance of a family life. The PGA wants, and may get, Tiger Woods back on the Tour.

Regardless of what happens with the former situation, the latter is likely to come about.

Getting back onto the course may be the very best thing for him. It's where he excels and where he feels comfortable.

Golf may provide Step 13 out of 12.

Michael Jordan once famously observed that he felt safe on a basketball court. It was the one place he knew he could avoid hangers-on and cloying reporters, as if there were a glass shield enclosing the hardwood.

Mr. Woods should be able to find the same security inside the fairway ropes.

And, as basketball heads into tournament time, a quintessential "do-over" time for any team or player who feels as yet unfulfilled by midseason ratings, America might want to give Mr. Woods a well-deserved mulligan.