Too Much Too Soon For Golfer John Daly -- Almost Drowns In Whiskey, Beer
Politicians, including Dan Quayle, seemed to be everywhere. Celebrities, too. As cameras clicked, as pens and pencils came from all angles, it was John Daly everybody wanted.
As usual, after another day of 300-yard drives, the "You da man" chants were mostly reserved for the chain-smoking, long-haired, long-hitting golfing phenom.
John Daly.
Even as Daly scurried through a chilling, steady drizzle to the clubhouse entrance of the Tournament Players Club at Avenel in Potomac, Md., people made him feel as if he were in a subway at rush hour instead of a high-rent suburb of Washington.
His round at last month's Kemper Open celebrity Pro-Am was over, but it was some 10 minutes before Daly reached a courtesy car and climbed inside with wife, Bettye and 11-month-old daughter Shynah Hale. Also with him were caddie Greg Rita and his wife, Lori.
They were headed for the hotel and a leisurely night of dinner and TV.
So, what was the big deal?
Two years ago, few people knew or cared much about Daly. And Daly cared little about dinner and a quiet night at home.
No, Daly more resembled John Belushi's character in "Animal House." Forget all that potential; Daly was drowning himself in whiskey and beer.
Go home at night? Never. Golf was just getting in the way of a good time.
"Everyone would play, then go out looking for the best nightlife in town," said Daly, 27, known as "The Wild Thing" during his two years at the University of Arkansas. ". . . There's so much downtime, so much time to yourself, especially if you're not married or don't have good friends. You can get lost on your own."
A classic case
A stunning victory in the 1991 PGA Championship hardly tempered Daly's behavior. If anything, he became a classic case of too much too soon, a virtual nobody winning one of the four major championships and having little idea of how to handle it.
Several lucrative contracts, most notably with Reebok and Wilson and estimated at more than $10 million, only seemed to feed the bad habits of someone who could be the greatest thing to happen to golf since Arnold Palmer hitched up his trousers. On-again, off-again problems with Bettye, then his traveling companion, added to a soap opera atmosphere.
But an episode at their home in Castle Rock, Colo., in the early morning of Dec. 20, 1992, apparently had a sobering effect. Douglas County sheriff's officers quoted his wife as saying he "just lost it," slammed her against the wall and pulled her hair.
"The deal in Colorado was definitely off the wall," Daly said. "It was just a little town that had something for me, I guess. All that went in the media or over the networks is just a bad lie. I hit a few pictures, I hit a wall, but to say I beat my wife is ungodly.
"The good thing about it is I don't drink anymore and my life is only getting better. Now life's more fun. Not only golf, but everything seems to be much easier."
Daly said he hasn't had a drink since Dec. 21, 1992. That was a week before he checked into Sierra Tucson, a rehabilitation center in Phoenix, and befriended former Dallas Cowboy All-Pro Thomas "Hollywood" Henderson.
It was the start of a relationship that seems to have Daly's life on the right course.
Daly was born in Sacramento, Calif., but his family bounced around the country, stopping first in Dardanelle, Ark. (pop., 3,621), not far from the former residence of one of the state's most famous sons, Bill Clinton.
He started playing golf at 4 after watching his idol, Jack Nicklaus, another long-hitting blond, on television in the 1971 U.S. Open. He taught himself how to play by reading Nicklaus' 13 lesson tips in Golf Digest and played on a nine-hole course using balls he fished out of a pond.
Daly never listened to an instructor until he was 17 and began working with Rick Rosen, who remains his teacher.
"I just taught myself when I was a little kid to just hit it hard, and I don't see why I need to change," said Daly, who developed his exaggerated swing because his first clubs were an adult set of Nicklaus McGregors.
He also developed his drinking habits early. He started drinking at 14. Life in fast lane
Daly earned $6,300 for winning his first pro tournament, the Missouri Open in 1987, then finished second in his next two starts. Despite a first marriage that lasted only 18 months, he won three events in two years on the South African Tour, then played the Ben Hogan Tour in 1990, winning the Utah Open and finishing ninth on that tour's money list with $65,000.
All the while, he remained in the fast lane while driving along golf's outposts.
His routine seldom changed: Play his round, head out onto the town. Shots of Jack Daniel's. Another round of golf, another round of drinks.
"There were a lot of times I played drunk," he said, "and I'm sure there are a lot of guys out here (on tour) who play drunk."
In July 1990, Daly checked into a hospital in Maine for alcohol abuse.
"It's the last time I drank Jack Daniel's," Daly said.
Daly finally passed the PGA Tour school on his fourth try in the fall of 1990, but after missing the cut in 11 of his first 24 tour starts in 1991, he sat on the outskirts of the PGA Championship, the ninth alternate.
At 5 p.m. the day before the tournament was to start, Nick Price, who would win the PGA a year later, withdrew because his wife was having a baby. Daly was in.
Daly drove 7 1/2 hours from Memphis, Tenn., to Carmel, Ind., was on the first tee at 12:58 p.m. and shot 69 in his first look at the Crooked Stick course that Nicklaus called "the hardest I've ever seen."
Every time Daly teed it up, caddie Jeff "Squeaky" Medlen would say, "Kill," and Daly would launch drives that defied logic with his "Grip It and Rip It" approach. He shot 12-under-par 276 for 72 holes and won by three strokes, earning $230,000, a 10-year exemption on the tour and status as Paul Bunyan in golf spikes.
"No one has ever stirred the golf world in one week like John Daly," Arnold Palmer said.
The victory was capped by Bettye leaping into Daly's arms on the 18th green and led to his being named rookie of the year. Fans idolized him. The Golf Writers Association of America honored him for service to humanity after he donated $30,000 of his $230,000 share to help the family of a fan who was killed by lightning in the first round of the tournament.
It seemed there was no stopping him.
But within the next year, things began to unravel.
-- He was disqualified from the 1992 Australian Open for failing to sign his score card.
-- He swore during an TV interview at the '92 Doral Open.
-- He was reprimanded - and later apologized - for criticizing TV commentator Brent Musburger and Buick Classic officials during an interview.
"The best thing for John to do is play golf, and Bettye and Shyna are the best things to happen to him," said McGovern, winner of the 1990 Ben Hogan Connecticut Open and the Houston Open in May. "He got thrown right into the spotlight; he went from nowhere to being a national hero overnight.
"John is a straight shooter. He may say a few things before he really thinks, but he says it as he sees it."
A six-stroke victory in the B.C. Open last September appeared to deflect some of Daly's personal problems, but they resurfaced with the pre-Christmas incident in Colorado.
To that point, the Dalys had experienced a celebrated relationship that included a postponed marriage when Daly learned his wife-to-be was 10 years older than she said she was, and paternity and palimony suits that were later dropped. The couple reconciled during a trip to Italy in April 1992 and were married a month later. Bettye gave birth to Shynah June 10, 1992 in Memphis.
When the pre-Christmas incident occurred, Bettye didn't call police or press charges, but under Colorado law the third-degree assault charge, a misdemeanor, is mandatory in domestic violence cases. A week later, on Dec. 28, Daly checked into Sierra Tucson for 19 days of treatment. On May 24, Daly pleaded guilty to a lesser charge, misdemeanor harassment.
In between, Daly realized he had to change his ways.
`You just crave sugar'
"I loved to (drink) and always did it around people," Daly said. "I just thought at a young age that everyone did it, so I thought it was the right thing to do. But now I realize I can't drink if I want to perform at a good level. I could have won a few more tournaments if I hadn't done what I did.
"There's not a day that goes by that I don't crave a beer. But now I just drink 20 Diet Cokes and finally got off the peanut M&M's. . . . When you've been drinking as long as I had, you just crave sugar. After I ate three chocolate doughnuts one day, I wanted to slap myself."
During his stay at Sierra Tucson, Daly met Henderson, a recovering alcoholic and crack addict who has been drug-free for a decade and is a consultant to the treatment center in Arizona. Henderson gives speeches on his problems, wrote a book titled "Out of Control" and has produced a movie, "Staying Sober and Staying Free."
Their bond has grown to the point that Daly calls Henderson three or four times a week and occasionally plays golf with him.
"Thomas said, `Just think how good I could have been.' I wasted probably four or five years. I got my (PGA Tour) card when I was 25. If I'd stayed sober, I might have gotten it when I was 21."
Reminders of past
Daly said he now feels comfortable, though there are reminders of the past.
"When you sit in a bar for eight hours a day, there are other things you could be doing," Daly said. "What's so funny now is when I see someone else drunk and you look at yourself and say, `God, I used to be like that?'
"We all see (spectators) drunk on the golf course all the time and I just look at them and say, `God, I don't ever want to be like that again.' I bet I looked funny when I was drunk."
Daly binged on golf early this year, playing an unthinkable 12 consecutive weeks, including one in Paris, as he tried to re-establish his game. In 15 starts this year, he has only one Top 10 finish, a tie for third in the Masters, and has won $142,713, 65th on the money list.