John Daly Brings Balls to Golf

Golf is a unique sport. Its playing surface to goal/hole/end-zone ratio is ENORMOUS. If soccer were golf, and its goal kept in proportion, one team would have to hail a cab to get the ball anywhere near the opposition's net.

A cup diameter of a golf hole is the size of a billiards pocket, yet its playing surface requires geography of Neverland Ranch proportions. If billiards were like that, Minnesota Fats wouldn't be.

Golfing is also unlike any other sport in that motorized vehicles are used outside the context of, say, racing them. Let's suppose a rugby player didn't much feel like running between scrums. If rugby were golf, he'd simply hop in a cart and lazily putter around the pitch.

In Canada, where the ground is frozen solid for at least nine months a year, players risk frostbite on the links if they can't jump-start their carts. In fact, the weather is so uninhabitable generally, that during the winter months, the most infirm, out of shape, and elderly segment of the population, that is to say golfers, head down to sunnier climes to hone their craft.

Now, unsurprisingly, neither of us golfs -- not for any of the reasons cited above, but mostly out of deference to proper male attire and not enjoying the prospect of any aspect of the game save the possibility of a free round at the clubhouse afterward.

One man who knows all about this is John Daly, the Faulkner of golf, a two-fisted boozer whose cavorting about when he's not on the links has no doubt compromised his game but unlike his more staid peers, allows him to be seen swinging with the likes of women like this one (NSFW -- unless you work somewhere good)

Daly, powered by the hooch, is known to smack the ball further than most of his peers, leading us to conclude (though we're not doctors) that his Samson-like strength is somehow related to his copious booze intake. Correlation equals causation if you're drinking the right stuff.

His "swing coach" (nothing to do with the embarrassing swing-dancing craze of the 1990s that led to one of the worst dance movies of all time) dropped Daly, because, he said: "The most important thing in his life is getting drunk, " as if that's really a problem.

According to recent reports, Daly spent Saturday working on his other game, "at the Hooters 'Owl's Nest' drinking beer, mingling with fans and signing autographs, including one on the back of a woman's pants". For proving that golf too can have competitors who don't mind being photographed in the presence of the topless while downing a regiment's worth of booze, we salute you John Daly.



And we would also like to offer a salute to the far more charming Miss Charming, a friend of The Shark Guys, who will be holding her Tales of the Cocktail Film Fest next Friday and Saturday (March 21 and 22) in New Orleans. We won't be able to attend unfortunately, but it's a can't miss for lovers of film, fun and four-in-the-morning closing times (we're not sure about the last part, but hey it is New Orleans we're talking about!). Click here for details