The Nigh Seen Creeder

Joe Biddle has a great column 'bout pro golfer/human train wreck John Daly in this morning's Tennessean. A sample:

"But the most unattractive snapshot I've seen recently is John Daly playing a round of golf at his Murder Rock Golf and Country Club.

"When Daly teed off for a local morning television show, he wore jeans, sunglasses, an Arkansas football golf hat and sunglasses. That's it.

"He was barefoot and topless. No shoes. No shirt. No problem.

"As he stood over his ball on the first tee, Daly had a cigarette dangling out of his mouth and a keg-sized beer belly hanging over his jeans.

"It had to be a picture PGA Tour Commissioner Tim Finchem adored. Maybe Finchem should use it to promote the Tour. 'Hey, kids, you can grow up to be a golf slob like John Daly!'

"Daly continues to destroy what was one of golf's most promising careers. He had the game, but not the brain."

A few hours after reading Biddle's column, I visited my local K-Mart to pick up some potting soil. As I was strolling through the store, I spied a rack full of John Daly Apparel T-shirts, lightweight jackets, and rainwear.

One of the Daly Apparel T-shirts had several quotes from ol' John on beer and gluttony and such. As I examined it, I thought to myself, "Since I'm pretty sure John Daly is going to be found dead in his bed, in a hotel room, or in a ditch in the very near future, I don't think I could bring myself to buy - much less wear - this shirt."

I'd give anything if I could kit a ball off the tee like John Daly. If having that ability meant me being an alcoholic slob, with a three-packs-a-day smoking habit, I would say "No thank you."