Let's hear it for the boy. No - not that boy...

Tiger Woods won the PGA Championship today. Not a big surprise. He went into the day with a three stroke lead, and it's hard for anyone to catch up to him once he's on a roll like that on red shirt day. To me, the more interesting story about this tournament was John Daly's performance on Thursday, but that's long since disappeared from the headlines. Allow me to bring you back.


On Thursday crowd favorite John Daly seemed to be making a run at the title and was on the leader board going into Friday. It was particularly notable because 1.) he doesn't even have exempt status anymore (although he's got a life long invitation to this tournament as one of it's past winners) and 2.) even worse: instead of playing in the practice rounds earlier in the week with the rest of his earnest competitors, he was at the casinos playing slot machines.

I saw him interviewed off the green of one of the holes during play on Saturday. They were playing in EXTREME heat, so with a nod to his reputation he was asked how much water is in his bag. He replied, "There's four diet cokes, 12 packs of cigarettes, there's flints and lighter fluid - enough for nine holes - and then we worry about the golf balls and other stuff."

Watching him on the tour is funny and sad, inspiring and frustrating. His peers seem to feel the same way, with notable players (including Tiger) acknowledging that Daly's raw talent is likely greater than their own. His destructive habits get in the way of his own success.

An affable and humorous soul, he telegraphs his flawed life unabashedly. He scraps by on that sheer and obviously enormous talent. What else could explain how he manages to stay on the tour despite a serious gambling problem (he admits he's lost between $50 and $60 million over the past 15 years), severe alcohol addiction (he claims he drank a fifth of Jack Daniels every day of his 23rd year) and several tumultuous marriages (he's on his fourth, and in June he showed up at the Stanford St. Jude Championship with scratches and cuts on his face after claiming his wife had attacked him with a steak knife the night before.)

He's fatter than any two other golfers you could find on the tour. To this he applies his usual brand of self deprecating humor. He refused to partake in the British Open Champions Dinner because "You can't get this fat boy into a suit." He has stated the only reason he does not lift weights is because the health club does not let him smoke there.

As much of a train wreck as he is, his no-nonsense, what you see is what you get attitude makes fans just love this underdog. There was a perfect quote in the San Jose Mercury News: "If Tiger Woods is a Rembrandt, John Daly is a paint-by-numbers Elvis on black velvet. Tacky, for sure. Yet there's something oddly endearing about it..."

Speaking of perfect quotes, here are some winners from Daly:

"I don't think I've ever stepped into a gym - they won't let me smoke there. I just thank God Miller Lite isn't as fattening as most beers. If I cut back on beer, though, I'd look anorexic."

"I learned you can't drink whiskey and play golf."

"I said to myself, 'I'm gonna marry that girl.'...She said, 'I don't like blonds and I don't like golfers, but I do like fat boys.' So I knew I had a chance."

"I was never able to just have three or four beers. One's too many and ten ain't enough."

“I still say they made that movie after me,” (about Tin Cup, which really does seem like it's about him. Fun movie if you like golf. I've seen it at least 10 times.)

Check out this New York Times article about John's amazing Thursday round and some background on his 1991 "zero to hero" victory in this same tournament.