Off the ball: Salute golf's comeback kid

By WYNNE GRAY

For those of us whose golf could be generously described as adventurous, there is a fascination about the way John Daly plays the sport.

The man who wants to use the moniker "Grip It and Rip it," to portray his outrageous swing rather than the excesses of his lifestyle, came in from the cold this week when he won the BMW International Open near Munich.

It was the first victory for Daly since 1995 when he claimed the British Open after his trek from anonymity to fame in 1991 as the ninth alternate starter and winner of the PGA.

Naturally, there was another chapter in Daly's soap opera life behind the latest victory. After a seven-week courtship, the Wild Thing had married for the fourth time, sworn off the drink again and toned down the gambling.

Daly without a story would be like Mike Tyson without trouble. In the past decade, Daly has given sports writers and psychiatrists in the United States a feast of material.

Somehow, the 35-year-old has managed extraordinary golfing feats round two suicide attempts, three trips to rehab, three divorces, gambling blowouts, suspensions and drinking overdoses.

He has been tagged the sport's greatest serial self-abuser. Yet in the past few years, there has been a change. Spectators are going back to see Daly play golf, not to taunt him or watch for an on-course explosion as he showed at the 1998 World Cup at Gulf Harbour.

Which got me thinking how useful it would be if someone like Daly could also be induced to play the New Zealand Open at Paraparaumu in January. He would help to disperse the crowds, not with his wayward drives but with the attraction of watching his prowess.

Without a few other big-name attractions, the tournament is likely to be just a follow-Tiger Woods championship.

If spectators pay big dough they will want to see the best, and Tiger will be their solitary target.

When Daly came down to New Zealand last time, I watched him attack a practice round at Gulf Harbour. He was not in good mental shape, but he could still smoke those Marlboros - and that driver. On the second hole, a par five, his wedge second shot went over the green. It was staggering to watch. It was magnetic, dynamic, sport at its most compelling.

He appealed to me in the way Arnold Palmer and Gary Player did, rather than the measured play of Jack Nicklaus - just as Greg Norman raised excitement levels more than Ben Crenshaw; the way Tiger, Phil Mickelson and Sergio Garcia express their talents in comparison to David Duval.

During his dark days, Daly probably agreed with Raymond Floyd, who said: "They call it golf because all the other four-letter words were taken."

After his win this week, Daly would likely warm again to the words of the great Bobby Jones: "Competitive golf is played mainly on a five-and-a-half-inch course - the space between your ears."

In recent years, we have watched television footage and listened to commentary from players such as Ken Venturi, Peter Oosterhuis, Curtis Strange or Gary McCord about that space and the golf course.

They are insightful, but not as perceptively sharp as that legendary golf commentator Henry Longhurst. Which says a great deal for Longhurst, who apparently enjoyed more than a tipple as he plied his trade.

Longhurst invaded our television sets in the early days of golf coverage as a stocky fellow, conservatively dressed, with a rounded accent and slicked-down hair. He painted strong verbal images, pithy but nothing elaborate.

Sometimes work must have been a huge struggle for Longhurst, who I discovered could be so sodden he needed - as it was once put - a "bucket and hoist" to get to his lofty commentary spot. But somehow he fired.

Daly did, too, this week, and the sport has been richer for both men.