Modern golf's King of Self-Inflicted Pain has done it all - drinkin', smokin', fightin', cussin', gamblin', cheeseburger-eatin', womanizin', divorcin' and geetar-pickin'. Shall we count the ways he's hurt himself? Or just count those two majors and the legions that love him?

 

If he wasn’t an emotional retard who suffers from social Tourette’s – saying virtually anything that comes into his head – and had an ounce of self-discipline, John Daly would have been a consistent world beater. Instead we get a life junkie with a weight problem and a memorable mullet but the chances are that none of us would want to change a single hair on that appallingly-coiffeured head.

He landed in the conservative world of pro golf with a bang in 1991, like some hopped-up alien parachuting in from another galaxy. Driving through the night as ninth alternate in the US PGA Championship, he pitched up at Crooked Stick with no sleep, no practice rounds and no caddy, so immediately hired Jeff Medlin. ‘Squeeky’, as he was known, usually carried for Nick Price, the man whose withdrawal let Daly into the field, and quickly got the measure of his temporary boss by handing him the driver at every opportunity, with the simple instruction ‘Kill’.

The unfeasibly long swing was forged as a six-year-old when the young Daly had to play with adult clubs, and lacked the strength to control them at the top. By the time he had matured physically, the clubhead almost hitting his left ankle at the end of the swing felt so natural that John stuck with it. The result was that he could pound the ball unfeasibly long distances but at Crooked Stick he not only hit them long but straight, and his chipping and putting was touched by the Gods.

We got further insight into the Boy-Man immediately afterwards when he tearfully thanked Nicklaus for being such an inspiration with an ‘I love you Jack’ speech, loaded a bunch of friends into a stretch limo, drove to the nearest McDonald’s and stood up through the sunroof to order Big Macs all round.

He has subsequently won the Open Championship (in 1995 at St Andrews), but has only three other US PGA Tour wins to his credit, which is scant reward for his talent. His life, including four marriages, alcohol, gambling, smoking and fast-food addictions, reads like one of the lachrymose country songs he likes to write and perform. One of his wives allegedly attacked him with a steak knife, another was discovered to be 10 years older than she had told John, while a third has been banged up after pleading guilty to laundering drug money. But through all this, and the several Tour-inflicted fines and bans he has endured, Daly remains one of the most popular golfers in the world, adored by working class people who see him as ‘their’ champion.