One year ago, golfer John Daly – veteran of just about every addiction out there – swore off the one habit that supported all his others: golf.
After missing the cut at the 2010 Farmers Insurance Open, he told Golf Channel cameras, “I’m done. Just can’t play like I used to. I’m tired of embarrassing myself.”
That retirement lasted about as long as a pack of cigarettes in Daly’s pocket, which is to say almost no time at all.
He soldiered onward, playing in 20 total events. He only finished 12 of those, however, missing the cut in six and withdrawing from two after making the cut. Daly produced just one top-25 result and finished 194th in the FedEx Cup standings, well short of retaining his tour card.
Almost one year to the date of his retirement, Daly should reconsider.
In a sport where so many of his fellow competitors blended together into a khaki, cliché-spewing army of bland, Daly has stood out for being patently different.
Everything about him is larger than life. He became famous for his “grip it and rip it” mentality that helped him lead the PGA Tour in driving distance a record-setting 11 times. Until slimming down thanks to lap-band surgery in 2009, his weight hovered near 300 pounds.
Off the course, life hasn’t been much better. Daly has churned through four marriages (the last of which ended after wife Sherrie Miller assaulted him with a steak knife), aided by addictions to alcohol and gambling.
But the same qualities that made him unpopular with wives one through four,` also helped to make him the PGA’s biggest draw throughout the ‘90s.
His many trips to rehab, coupled with the admission in 2006 that he had lost more than $50 million gambling only served to grow the legend of Long John Daly.
After hitting rock bottom with a six-month suspension for the 2009 season, Daly’s next rehabilitation effort focused on his career.
Armed with a garish wardrobe courtesy of Loudmouth Golf, he began the season with moderate success on the European Tour before returning to the PGA Tour after his suspension.
Since that time, he has been living out his worst fear, the one he articulated to reporters at Torrey Pines last year.
He’s robbing entries from better golfers.
Without a tour card, he has been forced to rely on sponsor’s exemptions to gain entries into tournaments. A selfish move that was once justified by brilliant play now just looks like stealing.
The flashes of his old self are still there, but for every round of 68 there seems to be an 82 that directly follows.
This weekend, in his return to Torrey Pines, Daly played the best two consecutive rounds he will ever put together. He began the third round 8-under par after shooting rounds of 67 and 69.
Those waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop didn’t have to wait much longer. Daly fell apart during the weekend, shooting a 76 Saturday and a 79 Sunday to drop from a top-five finish to a tie for 65th.
And so it will go for the rest of his career. There will be moments where he shows the skills that vaulted him into the elite level that so few ever reach, but his days as a serious tournament contender are done.
Even worse, the PGA Tour has been infused with its most popular generation of young golfers in years. There are plenty of viable alternatives for sponsorship exemptions.
Next week, Daly will be heading to Qatar after being denied a sponsor’s exemption to the Phoenix Open.
Instead, he should consider heading back home to begin rehabbing his addiction to the spotlight with the acknowledgment of a painful truth: He needs golf far more than the sport needs him.
 
 
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Contact Ryan Ginn at [email protected]