"Finally," Payne said, "we are not unaware of the significance of this week to a very special player, Tiger Woods. A man who in a brief 13 years clearly and emphatically proclaimed and proved his game to be worthy of the likes of Bobby Jones, Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer. As he ascended in our rankings of the world's great golfers, he became an example to our kids that success is directly attributable to hard work and effort.
"But as he now says himself, he forgot in the process to remember that with fame and fortune comes responsibility, not invisibility.
"It is not simply the degree of his conduct that is so egregious here; it is the fact that he disappointed all of us, and more importantly, our kids and our grandkids. Our hero did not live up to the expectations of the role model we saw for our children.
"Is there a way forward? I hope yes. I think yes. But certainly his future will never again be measured only by his performance against par; but measured by the sincerity of his efforts to change. I hope he now realizes that every kid he passes on the course wants his swing, but would settle for his smile.
"This year, it will not be just for him, but for all of us who believe in second chances."
The lecture, or sermon, came from perhaps the only place in golf that has nothing to fear from Tiger Woods.
PGA commissioner Tim Fin-chem couldn't have delivered it.
No player could say it, because Woods never forgets a slight.
Even Jack Nicklaus declined all invitations Tuesday to address the affairs of the man who's chasing down his record of 18 major championships.
Indeed, Payne probably said it precisely because no one else would -- and when someone asked him if he wasn't just a little disappointed that Woods had chosen the Masters to make his return from five months' exile, his reply said it all.
By the time Woods tees it up today at 1:42 p.m., Bill Payne's philippic will have been the No. 1 topic for fully 24 hours.
That gentility he was counting on may not be in the cards.
