It seems that Tiger Woods may be acquainted with at least some of the seven deadly sins, and assuredly the National Enquirer will be checking Tiger’s scorecard to see if he’s remained under par.

I’m not fascinated by Woods’ apparent infidelities. I’m not hitting the refresh button on the TMZ.com Web site every hour to see if a new party girl has stepped forward to receive her 15 minutes of fame. Tiger Woods as Don Draper? Whatever.

I have little interest in Woods, the person. It was never about the person, anyway. Woods has always placed a moat around the person. Was he really all that likable, anyway? Have you ever really viewed Woods as a warm, approachable, jolly-good fellow? I’ve had no sense of the guy’s personality away from golf.

With Woods, it’s always been about building his brand and selling it to sports consumers. And the calculated and clever campaigns have been built almost exclusively around Woods’ indomitable golf game. The marketing has never been about the soul of Tiger the man; it’s always been about the precision, clockwork success of Tiger the golfer. Other than the grief that was evident after the death of his father, Tiger has been about as humanized as a sleek Mercedes Benz.

I’ve been captivated by Tiger’s talent and cold-blooded competitiveness. It’s superb theater, to watch the grimly determined Woods stalk and bury opponents with a sequence of kill shots on the back nine.

This, of course, leads to confusion in the public square.

For some bizarre reason, as sports fans we continue to attach a mythical glow to our sports stars. We want to turn them into something more than what they are. It isn’t enough to appreciate their ability to entertain; we also want to believe that they’re superior human beings. We want them to be heroes in the truest comic-book sense. The athletes will not only make the winning layup, throw the game-ending touchdown pass or swat the dramatic extra-inning homer — but they will enhance and save our cities, improve our quality of life (with merchandise) and be role models to our children.

It’s 99 percent rubbish, of course. When sports celebrities go home, they confront many of the same issues that face many so-called average Americans. It could be a strained marriage, problems at school with their kids, concerns over an elderly parent’s health. The stars usually have larger bank accounts than we do, but they bleed and sin and struggle to manage their flaws, just as we do. You see, I’ve never expected more from Woods than his excellence on the golf course. So he hasn’t disappointed me.

Woods has offered the predictable but effective apology for his “transgressions.” It was a smart move on several levels. If Mark McGwire had the same wisdom, he’d be way ahead in the image game by now.

If Tiger wins at Augusta National and captures a number of other tournaments in 2010, the storyline will quickly shift into the hero-worshipping realm. Woods will be depicted as a reformed man and a changed husband who overcame enormous personal adversity to save his marriage and career.

There’s only one way for Woods to lose popularity: by blowing too many golf tournaments. We’re willing to forgive just about any transgression. Anything except losing.