Being John Daly

I was the News Director of KARK-TV, the NBC affiliate in Little Rock, when John Daly took the golf world by storm way back in 1991 by winning the PGA Championship at Crooked Stick.   We were the only Arkansas television station to actually travel to Indiana to witness the victory firsthand thanks to a young photographer named Rob Thomas.

Thomas volunteered to drive all the way to the tournament in his own car if the station would pay his expenses.  He and I both had a feeling that Long John could actually win and minutes after our conversation, Rob hit the road.  Somehow Thomas got media credentials and he was there at 18 when Daly sunk the putt that brought him his first PGA win and it was a major!

You remember the story.  Here’s this young guy from Dardanelle, Arkansas who gets into the PGA Championship as the 9th alternate and wins the PGA without the benefit of even a practice round.  He drove himself to the tournament site, hopped out of his car and barely made his tee time.  It remains an amazing story.

Daly’s victory captured the attention of the entire golfing world.  It was so improbable.

There were other things that made JD so interesting to the public.  He didn’t look like a country club rich kid who had been taught for years by the club pro.  He didn’t have any sponsors.  He went way past parallel on his backswing.  His swing was really goofy looking compared to the perfect practiced swings owned by most of the pros he had just defeated.

And the best part, he hit the ball farther than anyone playing the game at that time.  In short, it was an amazing performance and he was different.  For the media, he was a great story.

As the blonde bomber was on his way to the win, Ken Venturi exclaimed on CBS, “Golf needs this kid.”  All of us in Arkansas were incredibly proud.  We had a player from our small state that had just won a major!  It had never happened before.

He made golf history.  He made Arkansas history.  He was one of us.  He was “Everyman.” As a former television news director, I remember trying to target the “Everyman” demo.  I tried to remember that there are more small houses than big ones and I told my reporters not to overwrite their stories.

John Daly hit the demo.  He was  “Everyman” – a player that a lot of middle class America could identify with.  We learned later he was drinking beer out of a disposable cup that day.  He was smoking too and the camera even caught him taking a puff or two.  It wasn’t what you normally see.

You know the rest of the story.  Here we are 50 or 60 million dollars later.  We’ve watched perhaps the most naturally gifted player of all time piss it all away.  John became golf’s bad boy instead of golf’s wonder boy.

Watching him tweet his fans yesterday and asking them to call the sportswriter who detailed his PGA disciplinary file is indicative of what keeps JD at the top of the bad boy list.  And the irony is that the file became a public record because John is trying to sue someone for libel.  You would hope that JD would have learned by now that instead of trying to control the media, he should learn to control himself.  And today we learn the Golf Writers Association is asking the PGA to discipline him for yesterday’s tweet.

Daly is not a kid anymore and he has punished his body.  Now, with the lap-band surgery, he’s changed his body too.  His skills are diminished.  He’s trying hard to get it back but I fear it has taken him too long to wake up.

Big John has done the improbable more than once.  He won the Open in 1995.  How many players have won two majors in less than five years on tour?   Not many and their names are legendary in golf.

John has disappointed his family, friends, sponsors, fans, his state and most of all it is becoming apparent now that he has disappointed himself.  He’s fighting it but I think he realizes who is to blame and it isn’t the media.

It’s been frustrating and sad for those who appreciate his incredible talent.

Many of us are still pulling for John Daly.  A legion of fans want him to win again.  We want the improbable to happen again.  The cruel reality is that it’s probably too late for that.