Dear John: An Open Letter To Mr. Daly

Dear Mr. Daly,

You probably don't remember this, but years and years ago I sent you a letter in the mail asking if, before your arrival at the 2003 PGA Championship at Oak Hill Country Club, you'd like to play a practice round as a guest of mine. I think I was about 17 at the time; which means I sent you that letter way back in 1999 or 2000 as a vague, poorly thought out attempt to help you win that tournament. I distinctly remember foolishly thinking, "oh, he'll probably call me at home and say thank you, and we'll play at least once a summer on the East Course together so he'll know it like the back of his hand when the tournament is here, that will teach the naysayers a thing or two!" However, as I'm sure you've sussed out, things didn't pan out that way and I went along with my business of the time; which consisted of playing more golf than should be legally allowed by law, drinking beer with my high school buddies any chance I could get, going to concerts, smoking cigarettes, chasing girls and the rest of the usual hobbies that overtake the life of a soon to be senior in high school. They were, as the saying goes, my salad days and I loved them and still remember most of them extremely fondly with, perhaps, a few meltdowns during tournaments, some harsh breakups and my first ever hangover.

Let me talk about those meltdowns before you think I'm taking a veiled shot at you (and I suppose I'll address the drinking and smoking as well if this is the case). Your persona and the influence you had on me at the time had nothing to do with your drama taking place in the news or some of the, um, trouble you had on the course during that time. I was just a gigantic, overly expectant brat who had a temper that made Woody Austin and Pat Perez look tame by comparison (okay, non-golfers reading this won't understand that last sentence). I would throw clubs. I would curse loudly. I would place the blame squarely on the shoulders of everyone that wasn't me and, if a person was not around to be blamed, sometimes a stray blade of grass or a noisy seagull, and worst of all, I would walk off the course in the middle of a round if I "just couldn't take it". Of course, this only ever happened when I was playing competitively away from the warm embrace of my school's team. I could handle the little 9-hole matches we played every few days, because it didn't really matter what I scored as long as I wrestled 1/2 a point or a point from the opposing player. I medaled a few times, sure, and that was very nice, but, man I was just terrible when it came time to "really play". To this day I am not capable of playing a tournament with the same amount of skill or passion that I play my casual rounds; which is my cautious way of letting the golfing world know that I am a huge wuss that would rather play for fun than pride or money.

As for the drinking, smoking and carousing in general; that was just me being a fearless teenager eager to try out all the things my parents told me not to (within reason, of course). Though, I still smoke and I enjoy a beer or three from time to time, it wasn't because I looked up to you and said "well, Big John does it, I should try it too!" No. Couldn't be further from the truth. I have heard people argue that you are a negative influence, and maybe that's true, but to me, you've always been one of the very few athletes I look up to on this planet. You've always been honest and open about everything that's happened to you, and you've never made a concerted effort to appear to be anyone other than yourself despite the ups, downs, ins and outs you've faced since winning the Open Championship at St. Andrews in 1995 (which is when I first took notice of both golf and yourself).

Good, that enough "ass covering" for everyone? I hope so, because it's over.

Alright, Mr. Daly, let's get down to the nitty-gritty of this whole shebang: I want you to keep playing, keep practicing and keep on driving that bus of yours from tournament to tournament because I am a selfish and hopefully optimistic person when it comes to you and your career. I think that, in this time of flux on the PGA Tour, when it's biggest star has been forcibly removed from the playing field by his own regretful actions, we (the golfing community) are in dire need of your spirit, charm and, more so than those two things, your immense talent. Do I think you'll win if you keep on trucking? No, of course not. I KNOW you will win, sir. Because, in the nearly 20 years you've been in and out of the spotlight one thing has always been obvious about you: when you play your best and your head is in the game, not even the best player in the world can beat you. I firmly believe this to be the case and can't be reasoned with otherwise.

There was a time when people said you were the next Jack Nicklaus -only longer- and that you would take the PGA Tour by storm and win everything you set your mind to winning, and I -whether it be delusional or not is for the public to decide- do not necessarily think that time has passed. I still have more faith in your ability as a golfer than I do that of players who have won twice as many majors as you. I hate to name names, but other players who have reached the later portion of their careers, like Vijay Singh, have continued to win regularly and with great conviction. I don't see why the same thing can't be in store for you, sir. I really, honestly believe that you have more innate talent than any other player on Tour, and I think, deep down, you must believe this too. Just, sometimes, it takes some effort to convince oneself of their abilities. Believe me, I know.

Let me tell you a brief story before the conclusion of this letter.

My girlfriend and I started dating right around the time of the 2003 PGA Championship, so from the get go she knew about my obsession with the game. [In fact, the first words she ever spoke to me were while I was practicing my swing in the living room of the house I shared with my best friend who knew her and invited her over,were "you're making me nervous with that golf club," to which I snidely replied "trust me, I know my way around a golf club..." love at first swing.] Since it was being played at my home course I had the opportunity to volunteer, and because my brother in law was heading up the media center for this particular tournament, that's where I landed. Unfortunately, to my chagrin, that resulted in me not being able to spend much time actually watching the tournament, and I was so busy that weekend I missed the dazzling shot Shaun Micheel hit to clinch victory on the final hole of the tournament -my father, however, was marshalling the 18th fairway and was about 15 yards away while it happened, he doesn't let me live it down-, so I got to see you play the 13th hole during a practice round and that was about it. One of my friend's suggested we drive over to Hooters, where, I believe you were parked that week, and say hello, but I'm not the kind of person who likes to bother anyone else, so I didn't.

Flash forward to 2004 and my girlfriend and I are in the middle of the first year of our relationship; which just so happened to be of the long distance variety. I didn't get to see her very often and when I did get a chance to go visit her at college the time was so limited that we were virtually inseparable when I did make the near four hour drive to see her. It meant everything to me those precious few hours we had to spend together. We were deep into the "puppy-love" stage of our relationship when everything was new, amazing, cuddly and wonderful. Anyway, one Sunday night (I had the following Monday off from work, so I got to stay an extra day) the two of us were walking back from lunch when we saw two or three guys watching golf on the big-screen TV that sat in one of the many student lounges scattered around her campus. I had to stop and look, and on the screen was no one other than you, Mr. John Daly, and (I'll never forget how oddly exhilarated I felt) you were winning the tournament!

I tried, in vain, to explain to my girlfriend that it had been a while since you had won on tour and how you were responsible for me taking up the game and how I would like to spend some time watching the rest of the tournament to see what happens. Always supportive - even back then- she said, "sure, why not I need to study anyway," which I mistook for the type of "go ahead" girlfriends say but don't really mean. Either way, after about twenty minutes of me fidgeting and checking, double-checking and re-checking the scoreboard as it made it's way across the internet, my girlfriend finally said, "okay let's go watch it as it finishes," and that's exactly what we did. I watched as you, Mr. Daly, walked away with the win. I teared up. I high-fived the other guys in the room watching the tournament with us, who were both equally as excited as I was to see you in the winner's circle again. I made a great effort to inform everyone within earshot that "John Daly was back," and "he's going to murder the Tour this year!" My girlfriend, who at the time did not really care for golf or my blunt obsession with it, was just as wrapped up in your "comeback victory" as I and the other golf nuts in the lounge. You just have that sort of personality. It really is remarkable.

Six years later I still feel that way. I know you can do it, Mr. Daly. I know you will do it, but that it won't ever happen if you're forced or feel uncomfortable or are unable to for some reason or another. I, like so many others, have the utmost faith in you (I know I sound like a broken record, but that's the point) and your abilities as a player. Not to mention you've always seemed to be one of the kindest, most loving people ever to catch the public's eye; which is why so many of us love you no matter what happens. That's really the crux of this letter, Mr. Daly; to let you know that win, lose or draw you have some of the most loyal, undying fans in all of sport.

Really, Mr. Daly, no matter what happens you'll always have my support and admiration, and, lo and behold, we're only 3 years away from yet another PGA Championship at Oak Hill C.C, and while I don't have membership privileges there anymore a great deal of my friends and relatives do. So, make of that what you will. I'll always do whatever I can -in a very little capacity, mind you, but still- and I'll never, ever stop supporting you in your quest to achieve whatever it is you'd like to achieve. Hopefully, this open letter will have a better chance of making it's way to you than my last, hand-written letter did all those years ago, but even if it doesn't that's fine. I know, and hope, that you are a busy man and, as of this posting, you are currently tied for third place at the Puerto Rican Open, so your game is rounding into shape and, according to your tweets, so is your mind set. There is, literally, nothing that can possibly stand in your way when you're firing on all cylinders, sir. So, go out there and tear it up. Grip it and rip it and play your game the way you were meant to play it. I know you can do this, sir. I know you can and will do this. Just be patient and good things will happen - on the course at least, sometimes life needs to be pushed along to make it work - and that's really the only advice I'd even try to give you, sir. Just be patient and know that the entire golfing community wants to see you hoist as many trophies as possible in the weeks, months and years to come.

Good luck this weekend! Now go get 'em!

Sincerely,

Jim L.
@jal1115