“People see in John Daly a flawed man, and in him they can see a part of themselves.”
-Tony Kornheiser, The Washington Post
When asked the age-old question, to go for it or lay up, what is your answer? Are you the one who grabs the 3-wood without hesitation, swinging away to see what comes? Or are you the one who takes a 7-iron, leaving yourself a reasonable but safe third shot?
On the great par-5 of life, do you want that shot at an eagle, or are you content with a two-putt par? Chances are, if you go for it on the golf course, you probably go for it in life (and you don’t have to play golf to go for it in life).
Wearing the moniker “I go for it” appeals to a part of all of us. It sounds cool enough to be a person with huge cojones and no fear. But while we would all like to be the person who has the balls to go all out, all the time, life just doesn’t always makes sense.
Consider the other side of the coin (the much more dangerous side): A life of going for the long ball means you never hold back. It means that you lack restraint. Or, put in even simpler terms, you have no control whatsoever.
John Daly, longtime member of the “Go For It No Matter What” Club, recently capped off what can only be referred to as a wild adventure-not just with his golf game, but with his life as well. By winning last week’s Buick Invitational in a playoff on a par-5 where the other two players laid up, Daly single-handedly epitomized the glory and the pain that come hand-in-hand with the “go for it” style.
The ride began-or at least the story picks up-at the 1991 PGA Championship. A brash, young, overweight, cigarette-smoking big hitter burst onto the PGA scene with his first major championship, winning not only the tournament, but also the hearts of many Americans.
He had become golf’s everyman-Homer Simpson with a putter. But it wasn’t his putting that won over so many fans. Daly had the biggest swing in all of golf. It was a swing too big to control, yet somehow he was harnessing the amazing power of a club generating speeds of up to 130 mph.
He was bigger than life, with a swing bigger than the game. Daly trounced around courses, smoking his cigarettes, and when rounds were over, he was famous for his ability to drink anyone under the table. Like his enormous swing, his life was also showing signs of being out of control, yet we marveled at his ability to keep it together.
Fast forward almost 15 years. Daly hadn’t won a tournament since his victory at the 1995 British Open. He had entered 190 PGA tournaments in a row without a single victory. As we all feared, the go-for-it lifestyle got the better of him. At one point a few years ago, Daly had to be physically assisted in leaving a golf course because he was shaking so badly. Rumors persisted for years that Daly was seeking help for his alcohol abuse, and after three failed marriages, it looked like things couldn’t get much worse for the once-beloved character.
But, as stories like this often go, when it seemed things couldn’t get much worse, they did. Early this summer, Daly’s wife, just days after delivering the couple’s first son, was indicted on federal drug and gambling charges. Daly was never presumed to be involved, but since it was his wife, the guilt by-association factor immediately comes in.
Daly’s decline had taught us an important lesson: that there is danger in always going for it. On the other hand, his win last week reminded us that there is glory, while limited and often temporary, for those wild souls who can’t be tamed.
Chances are, you know someone that always “goes for it,” and the chances are that while many might envy that person’s willingness to put it all on the line, we can’t help but wonder if things would be a lot simpler if that person would lay up from time to time.
As Americans, we want to be the ones who go for it. We have a bigger-than-life attitude that Daly seemed to emulate, but in reality we are scared. We will always be enamored with those special people who seem to be able to balance their insanity with success, whether it’s in sports or not. We don’t want to be that person, but something about that person intrigues us.
The long lesson of life leaves most of us restrained, in control and safe-which is where we truly want to be. But a part will always yearn for the unwise judgment of just swinging away.