Sophie Heawood: Tiger's sex degrees of separation

We shall all be united under one golfer

It's about Tiger Woods! And sex! Again! Wait – come back: it's not actually him this time, but one of his lovely ladies.

Mistress Number 1, as Rachel Uchitel has helpfully been dubbed, as if she performed a set role in a tribal polygamy system – heck, maybe she does – well, she's now admitted that she's also been boffing the bloke from Buffy, David Boreanaz, who has confessed too, and says his marriage has gone a bit wobbly accordingly.

You may have thought you had heard the last of Tiger Woods and his wicked ways. Quite the opposite. In fact his Mexican wave of a shagathon has run for so long – the first stories broke in 2009, folks! – that we are now well into the second tier, which is when we get to see all the other chaps with whom the ladies were having affairs.

Then will come level 3, when we discover whom these other cuckolds were cuckolding, and before we know it, the sex degrees of separation game will mean that everybody in the world has boffed someone who's boffed someone who's boffed Tiger Woods. It could be you! In fact it WILL be you. The only people remaining untouched by Tiger's very own human internet will be some remote Polynesian islanders who will have to console themselves with a role in the next line-up of the Sugababes. (Or in British government – it's pretty clear that everyone will get a turn at that this year.)

Personally, I am quite disappointed, having missed round one, not to be able to stand up and say that I have been having it away with the prize golfer. I do believe our love would have stood a chance, had it not been for my deep-seated, almost pathological aversion to diamond shapes on V-neck pastel-coloured knitwear. (When William Blake wrote about that tyger, tyger burning bright, and mused on what hand or eye could frame its fearful symmetry, it is almost certain he was referring to golf sweaters.) And not being famous enough to be in the second wave – although I did get a text message last week from someone who was sitting in the same room as Russell Brand's cat – well, I'm just delighted that the role of "custard cousin" is now opening up to us all.

Forget coalition governments – here's where the real glue of humanity lies. The real sticking power lies with the sticky stuff. It will be like those biblical passages where Adam did lay with Eve, who did begat Cain, who did begat Enoch. And then Tiger Woods did lay with Mistress Number 1, who did lay with that bloke out of Buffy, who may have got funky with the bird from that film with the mad spinning helicopter and the rabid dog, who did get spermy with that lad from EastEnders who looks a bit like chalk, who bedded one of the 27 women fortunate enough to have danced el mambo horizontal with Nick Clegg.

Why, this Tiger chap has more power to unify humans than an Anderson shelter. In a digital age, you, Tiger, are bringing us all together in a way that no amount of technology or even internet dating sites ever could.

The Elizabethans made sense of the world through their Great Chain of Being, in which all of the earth's elements are mapped in an interdependent hierarchy with god at the top, then angels, and royalty, followed by lesser humans, animals, then plants and then poor old rocks.

We don't need that any more. We have a Great Chain of Tigering, with the great man himself at the top. Oh Tigs, it is a noble thing that you do for your country, your world, your cosmiverse. Just not quite so brill for your wife. But hey ho.