Oh no, not another Tiger triumph!

I said it before and I’ll say it again:

Please, God, make sure that the winner of the Masters golf tournament is not named Tiger Woods.

I am not being vindictive here.

I know that Tiger’s a great golfer – probably the best ever.

Now that he’s out of sex rehab (!) he will resume his relentless march toward Jack Nicklaus’ magic record of 18 majors.

This guy picks up trophies as routinely as we pick up jugs of milk.

But not this one. Not his first one out of the gate. Not the mother of all golf titles!

If he dons the green jacket Sunday afternoon, his false status as a “hero” or “role model” will be back in play.

Despite, of course, a burst of serial cheating and tramp-trawling that Hugh Hefner might have backed away from.

He doesn’t deserve to be worshipped as a jock god again – not ever, and certainly not right away.

It may happen, of course. In fact, it probably will given the twisted way that celebs are judged these days.

For the few people who aren’t so easily fooled, however, it will be a little easier to swallow if his crowning is postponed for a tourney or two.

Let Phil win this one. His wife has cancer, and his career has had more than his share of disappointments.

Phil – and lots of other golfers – deserve a break. You-know-who deserves a few more rounds in purgatory.