Daly Finally Adds Patience To His Talent
John Daly won the 124th British Open Sunday. God save the Queen?
Not really. As this unconventional man seized the silver claret jug, a few royal and ancient members wearing blue blazers probably flinched from their privileged perches within the Old Course clubhouse.
But even if whiskey glasses were smashed instead of raised, talent is talent, and Daly has massive quantities of it. On an afternoon so gusty that seagulls were grounded, he became the first player since the great and revered Seve Ballesteros to claim two of golf’s majors before age 30.
Moreover, being a chocoholic instead of a thirsty whale, Daly needn’t worry about whether he’ll reach age 30. He has a lot of game, Daly does, and he always has. But the American bulldog has shelved his previous battle cry of grip it, rip it and sip it. Now Daly perseveres when he used to perspire.
“I’ve learned to be patient,” he said. “I wasn’t very mature at one time, and a lot of that had to do with my drinking. Some of the terrible things I’ve done, some of the people I’ve caused trouble to . . . If I were still drinking, no way I’d be here today.”
When Daly exploded on the golf scene, he was as polished as a rock. He powered to the PGA Championship in 1991 when he slipped into the field as the ninth alternate after Nick Price withdrew to witness the birth of his child.
Sunday, Daly succeeded Price as the victor in golf’s oldest championship on the sport’s most cherished venue. Included above Daly’s name on the jug are previous winners at St. Andrews - Bobby Jones, Jack Nicklaus, Sam Snead, Nick Faldo, Ballesteros. Honorable company.
Daly isn’t there yet, by any means, but he surely stifled critics Sunday. The Old Course is supposed to make steak and kidney pie out of a high-ball hitter who whips the club way past parallel, especially with small-craft warnings on St. Andrews Bay. Daly, however, dazzled with his underrated soft touch around the greens and his course management, a byproduct of sobriety.
Daly did stumble into a tie at 72 holes after leading by three strokes. Italy’s Costantino Rocca, a forlorn figure whose obstinate putter dashed Europe’s chances at the 1993 Ryder Cup, again executed an amazing gaffe at No. 18. Needing a birdie, Rocca fluffed a pitch shot with a hacker’s blueprint - he wobbled, he broke his hands, he decelerated.
Then Rocca drained an amazing 65-footer with one foot off the putting surface. He fell to the turf in glee while Daly said goodbye for a while to Paulette, his third wife. Daly, composed, then thrashed Rocca by four strokes in as many playoff holes. But not before Big John, raising his fists to the wind, exhorted fans to join the fun on his second trip along the 18th fairway.
Public approval never has been a problem for Daly. Wherever he plays, galleries are fascinated by his length. He’s a working-class guy, and that adds to his popularity here, too. It’s just a game, all Daly does is sell tickets, and besides the golf ball, he mainly has only hurt himself with his rough edges.
What Daly dearly craves is respect from his peers, and that’s where he comes up short. A year ago at this Open, he babbled to a greasy tabloid about drugs on the American tour. Curtis Strange told him to crawl back under a rock and Greg Norman wanted to deck him, but they had to stand in line.
On Sunday, though, before the playoff, Daly and caddie Greg Rita were surrounded by Corey Pavin, Brad Faxon and Bob Estes. Mark Brooks supplied a yardage book that had been misplaced in the commotion. Daly, once dismissed as a Ryder Cup possibility because he gave up when his game gave out, gave it his best and won.
“I know I’ll remember today,” said Daly, fueled by sugar rather than spirits. “A lot of what I used to do is a little fuzzy. But I know it wasn’t all good.”