After days of press scrutiny and denials, Tiger Woods fessed up last week to “transgressions” and apologized to his family.

My first reaction: "Who cares?" He’s an entertainer – not a teacher, public policy-maker or religious figure. Change the television channel or don’t buy his golf shirts if you find his behavior to be distasteful.

My second reaction: “What do we expect?” Our culture has a weird love-hate obsession with sports and sports figures. The major news outlets are giving minute-by-minute updates about Tiger and Elin but are ignoring “Climategate.” Jeesh.

Sports=lunacy in this country. We start our kids in sports when they can barely walk. We drag them to practices, put them in full pads at age 7 and get personal trainers. If they aren’t specializing by age 10, forget making the high school team. We take them out of town to compete in leagues and start videotaping them to compile their pre-pubescent sport “portfolio” to sell their skills to universities. Summers are spent in leagues, at camps and at workouts with personal coaches.

The days of a single-sport season are over. We compete year-round, and outdoor sports come indoors in the winter.

We give up family dinners and family vacations. We elbow our other parents out of the way to push our kid forward. We suck up to coaches and position ourselves as “boosters” so that our kid can get the advantage over his or her best friend. When they start to squirm about not feeling like going to practice or being tired or hungry or of having homework, we remind them of "their" (our) desire to be the best. We point out our sacrifices.

Whether it be sports or theater or entertainment, we all want our kid to be the next Tiger Woods. Or do we?

Tiger’s rise to fame is a case study. A golf club in his hand before he could walk. The Mike Douglas Show as a toddler. Recognized as a golf prodigy at age 8 and paraded on talk shows, morning news programs and in popular magazines.

He attended Stanford (didn’t graduate), won a record number of amateur titles and turned professional at the age of 21. Later that year, he won the coveted Masters Tournament at Augusta, and his celebrity exploded to a level that only a handful of people in history have ever experienced.

I wonder if he ever built a tent in the backyard with his buddies, slept over at a friend’s house or attended a high school dance? The “normal” lessons about life that most of us learn from our families, friends, schools, etc. are compromised by this insane focus on turning our kids into famous athletes.

There is a phenomenon observed when treating people with addiction or with trauma issues called “arrested development.” The theory goes that children who are traumatized or who venture into addiction at an early age often demonstrate a stunting in their emotional development. It is suggested that this disruption of our psychological development basically stops our growth at whatever age/stage the trauma or chemical becomes our focus.

I would suggest the same thing happens for celebrities. Becoming a pop star at 13, a child actor at 15, or a star athlete at age 8 seems to suggest that personal development stops at that age too. Michael Jackson started performing when he was barely in elementary school and remained a “child” for the rest of his life. The list of dysfunctional "child stars" is too long to list here.

I see it at Penn State. NCAA figures show us that only 3 percent of high school athletes nationwide make it to the post-secondary level. The kids we see at Beaver Stadium or at the Bryce Jordan Center are the best of the best. Most of them have been heralded in their home towns, celebrated at their high schools, featured in local newspapers and held to different expectations than the other kids.

They look at us with confusio

n when we say “you have to abide by the rules and standards for behavior and academics just like everyone else.” For many, it’s been years since they were expected to be just regular “kids.”

I remember a particular student athlete in an advising session very early in my teaching career. Trying to help him map out his graduation plan, I asked him what he wanted to do after college. His answer was one word: football.

What if you don’t make the pros? What if you get hurt? Even if you make it to the pros, you will eventually retire right? He looked at me like I was a lunatic.

I later found out that he had been the star of his small town middle and high school teams. His jersey was retired and hanging in the lobby of his high school. The kid was 19 years old. Yep - 19 years old.

Why are we surprised when they have academic issues, get arrested or fall into drugs or alcohol?

A backup plan for "normal" might be a good idea. 

Remember Todd Marinovich? He was an athlete engineered by his parents from birth to be world’s first “test tube athlete.” (Sports Illustrated, February 1988). Everything from his diet to the movies he was allowed to see controlled to create the perfect quarterback. His father bragged about a football in his crib and hamstring stretches at one month old. His senior year of high school, he had 13 different trainers and coaches. He went from being the best high school quarterback ever to entering the NFL as a USC sophomore to having a lackluster professional career, picking up a nasty drug habit along the way.

Are we surprised that Tiger doesn’t have the impulse control to manage a happy marriage? 

The child stars who develop into healthy adults seem to come from the families and systems that emphasize “normal” and provide and expect opportunities to be regular kids. Their families understand that the "gift' is only one facet of their lives.

The bottom line: Tiger is an entertainer. It will still be cool to watch someone with that much talent, under pressure, coming to the line and sinking the putt for the win.

As for his personal life: What did we expect?