Before you groan about -- all together now -- another Tiger Woods article, allow me to relay the reason for this latest addition to the ever-growing Internet bandwidth concerning his recent scandal.

Over the years, acquaintances who are aware of my profession often ask questions that inquiring golf fans want to know. Who is your favorite player to interview? What is Augusta National like in person? I answer, they nod, conversation turns to another topic.

Recently, though, I've found myself doing more listening in these situations than talking, my encounter with the periodontist being just the latest example. Instead of asking what I thought about the Woods scandal -- or fiasco or saga or imbroglio or whatever we're calling it these days -- he gave me his take, which was just fine considering I had a mouthful of metal instruments poking my bicuspids at the time.

This leads me to the root -- no toothy pun intended -- of why this story has conjured so much fascination among the masses: Everyone has opinions and theories as to what happened to Tiger, what's happening to Tiger and what will happen to Tiger -- his ghosts of Christmas past, Christmas present and Christmas future, if you will. And until we know otherwise -- and make no mistake, we may never know otherwise -- it doesn't matter whether you work on teeth for a living or cover the PGA Tour. Everyone's guesses are relevant and potentially correct.

That doesn't mean I can't provide some professional perspective to the proceedings. (Try repeating that sentence while under a local anesthetic.)

A few years ago, I sat next to Woods atop a double-decker bus during a 20-minute ride through Manhattan. Though we conducted a formal interview later that afternoon, I gleaned more about his personality from the crosstown jaunt than our sit-down. As I wrote at the time, discussions about breaking Jack Nicklaus' all-time major championship record or the angle of his swing plane did not dominate his social repertoire. Then again, it should now be noted that he wasn't exactly bragging about sexual conquests, either.

Instead, our conversation included thoughts on the weather (it was sunny), the previous night's Yankees game (they won) and rap song lyrics (OK, pseudo-rap -- he was trying to recall the words to an old Will Smith tune).

Moral of the story? I came away with the understanding that he is just a normal dude who happens to be much better at his profession than anyone else in the world. The truth is, if Tiger Woods was a 10-handicap, he'd be your coworker in the adjacent cubicle, always up for grabbing lunch at a local deli and an annual member of the office fantasy football league.

Many times in the past month -- after others have proffered their own reactions to the subject -- I have been asked the following question in regard to Woods: Can you believe all of these stories about him?

My response is always the same. After relaying the bus story, I answer the query with one of my own: Can you imagine your fellow employee in the adjacent cubicle leading such a life? Maybe not, but give the guy a billion dollars and one of the world's most recognizable faces, and all of a sudden it doesn't seem so unlikely. That's not to use fame and power as an excuse for his admitted infidelities, but certainly these things open the door to a world where such possibilities are limitless.

Really, though, I don't know anything more than you -- and depending on how much you read the tabloids and how true they actually are, I may know much less.

What I have read is that some of my fellow golf writers feel ashamed and embarrassed that Woods was leading this secret life right under our collective noses. Can't say I buy into that sentiment, though. The guy radiated such a pristine image that it was as if he were concocted by some Madison Avenue firm, a PR guy connected to his inner ear canal at all times. Sure, he swore on the course and slammed his club when a shot went awry, but were we supposed to translate such behavior as conflict in his personal life? And were we really supposed to follow him from inside the gallery ropes at a tournament to the velvet ropes of a nightclub's VIP area?

We've found out only recently that what we knew about Woods, we knew about him only as a golfer. Those who held the man to a higher standard off the course are likely the same people now most disappointed and disgusted by his private behavior. On the course, he has clearly had no equal over the past dozen years, but the lesson here is that such proficiency shouldn't give anyone deity status.

Though he has done irreparable damage to his public persona, Tiger will continue to be the mercurial competitor that we've known for so many years. That day may not be as soon as you think or hope, though, with his leave of absence potentially lingering for more than the early part of the 2010 season. He must be guilt-ridden, embarrassed and just plain weary from the anguish that he has caused.

After all, he is just a regular guy in a totally irregular situation. There's no course guide to help navigate through this, no caddie who can offer advice to turn this into an unlikely birdie. If and when he returns to golf, it will be on his terms, and it won't happen until he is ready to face a public that has a much different perception of him than ever before.

But hey, that's just my opinion. If you want another one, ask my periodontist.

Jason Sobel is a golf writer for ESPN.com. He can be reached at Jason.Sobel@espn3.com.