I’m Tiger Woods. I’m Tiger Woods. I’m Tiger Woods. Who’s Tiger Woods?

Everybody’s Tiger Woods. Who wants to puke on Tiger Woods?

The man who will somehow change golf and its notorious history of racism forever arrived last weekend at Augusta Inter-national Golf Club, amid the blue-hairs and rednecks who have always thought it was their sport.

Ironically, as O.J. Simpson was probably hitting golf balls at a public, white-dominated L.A. golf course Sunday, Tiger was setting records and producing the most-watched golf show in television history. The Nielsen rating for the final round a 65 percent raise from last year’s equaled an estimated total audience of more than 44 million viewers.

Tiger Woods is just what this country needs, a black-Asian hero in a white man’s game.

He is now the sporting world’s diplomat of peace after O.J. set the racial tension back 20 years.

Tiger is everyone’s new hero. Now whites, blacks, Asians, plumbers, lawyers and Sunday afternoon hackers will be doing Woods’ patented fist-pump celebration after they make a 10-foot bogey putt.

But some people unrealistically say golf will become the NBA. Every underprivileged kid living in the ghetto will try to be Tiger Woods “golf geek.”

I don’t think so. Not so fast.

That wasn’t how Tiger started. His isn’t an amazing, earth-shaking, gangs-to-riches story. He wasn’t the kid who grew up hitting rocks and gun shells instead of golf balls in the hard-luck streets of South Central.

Tiger may not have been born in Bel-Air with a silver golf tee in his mouth, but he was born with a new set of miniature golf clubs waiting in his crib.

His wacky father, Earl Woods, a retired Army Green Beret colonel, had him hitting golf balls when he was 2 years old. Tiger was force-fed golf with his Gerber’s mashed carrots.

He should have won the Masters by 12 strokes he’s been playing golf for 20 years.

I think his story is kind of bland. Where’s the excitement?

It would have been 10 times more amazing if he came from jail or juvenile hall to make it all the way to the Masters.

Jokingly, it would have made for a much better story if Tiger were a gangster. Just picture this: Tiger showing up at that snob-filled course in Georgia with extra baggy jeans, gold chains, a hockey jersey and an L.A. Lakers hat turned sideways.

It would have been more amazing if he had a posse of caddies, not just one old, white guy. It would have been the greatest if he came to Augusta with a bad attitude and kicked everybody’s ass.

The sport of golf needs a rebel. Not a conformist.

Tiger did everything by the book last weekend. He acted like every other rich, 35-year-old white guy who won the tournament before him. He chipped. He putted. He shmoozed with the redneck hillbillies who, seven years ago, would not have let him join the Augusta International Country Club.

Tiger Woods is too damn nice. He should be bitter and pissed that he was the first and only black Masters champion. He should have taken his green jacket and thrown it at the Augusta Golf chairman.

It would have made for much better television if he had an East Coast rival golfer that he hated also.

It would have been unforgettable if he rolled out of Augusta with 10 hoochies in the back of a ’64 Chevy Impala as it bounced up and down Magnolia Lane.

Too bad.

I guess we will have to take Tiger for what he’s worth … a remarkable, yet dorky, golfer.

I guess you have to look at him as someone respectful of his heritage and past, but not obnoxious.

After his stunning, 12-shot victory he should be looked at not as a black, not an Asian, not a miracle worker, but a golfer.

If Tiger never wins another major tournament again, he should be remembered as an athlete who kicked golf’s shady history, and its best players’ ass, for one memorable weekend.

Sean Colclough is a journalism junior and assistant sports editor for The Daily Aztec. His e-mail address is colcloug @rohan.sdsu.edu.