part, for a crass joke.

One of the Earth’s most closely scrutinized individuals made a poor attempt — in broad daylight, in the middle of the first round — to surreptitiously hand a tampon to playing partner Justin Thomas after outdriving him. It was a “prank” between friends, Woods called it, in the spirit of the ol’ you-throw-like-a-girl idiom, except, in this case: You drive it like a girl.

The stunt distracted from the actual golf at a tournament that benefits Woods’ TGR Foundation, and also from the celebratory nature of his participation after seven months away from competition.

I spent Thursday and Friday walking with his fans, admiring the diversity of his gallery and the democratic nature of watching golf in person, where recognizable actors like Timothy Simons and former All-Star ballplayers like Kenny Lofton have to jockey for position outside the lines with everyone else.

Asking myself — and people around me — how many of them learned they loved golf because of Tiger? How many people’s lives are better because of the game, and the bonds it’s engendered? How many of them were here, walking the grounds at Riviera this week, entirely because of Woods?

Many. So, so many.

And not only because of his dominance, his 15 major golf titles and 82 PGA Tour victories, but also because his presence as a man of mixed racial heritage on the golf circuit was so revelatory.

“I grew up playing basketball, football and baseball, the three major sports, and I had no idea that 25 years later I would be in love with golf as much as I am now,” said Montebello’s Danny Bruce, a 41-year-old with a 3 handicap. “He looked like one of us out on the course, and once he took the world by storm, it was like, ‘Hey, he’s gonna be here to stay!’

“Tiger Woods inspired a whole wave of new golfers to come out, and that is the most inspiring thing that any athlete could ever do.”

Woods helped golf feel so much more inclusive; he helped grow the game in measurable and profound ways. He’s paid it forward, investing in uplifting young people through education, with his TGR Foundation working to equip young scholars with the aptitude and motivation to do the same.

And this week, Woods got caught making a sexist joke in the first round.

I witnessed the interaction Thursday, saw Woods hand something to Thomas and the two share a chuckle. I couldn’t tell what it was that traded hands, though, and if you’d have given me 100 guesses as to what it was, I wouldn’t have ventured that it was a tampon.

Probably should have. We’ve known of Woods’ tawdry sense of humor and ability to offend since that 1997 GQ article in which he told some sexually distasteful jokes that the writer, Charles P. Pierce, published despite the golfer’s objections. Something-something can’t change someone’s stripes?

And just this week, toggling between golf podcasts, I turned off a couple that clearly were not aimed at this lady — one with a host whining about his wife, another with a guy getting real graphic about how aroused he was to learn of Woods’ participation in the Genesis Invitational field.

Golf is more inviting than it was before Tiger, but it’s still not nearly as welcoming as it could be, as Tiger just reminded everyone.

On Friday, I stood beside a mom holding her son’s hand, and a dad with two young daughters on each of his arms. And then I saw social media’s predictable reaction to Woods’ dumb joke.

He was asked about it after he finished his round — he shot a 3-over-par 74 — and he issued the perfunctory apology: “If I offended anybody in any way, shape or form, I’m sorry. It was not intended to be that way.”

The guy turned so many people on to the game, broadened its appeal and upended woefully antiquated, prejudiced perceptions of who was supposed to be good at golf.

The same guy also has managed to perpetuate — even privately, unwittingly, or in jest — an antiquated, sexist trope, and I’m not sure that’s good for golf.