An Ode to Long John Daly
by Matthew E. Adams

He burst on the scene

 like a country hick,

Back in ’91,

At Crooked Stick

“Grip it and Rip it”

Long John would say,

Soon we learned,

He’d live his life this way

Capable of hitting

The ball a mile

His personal baggage

Did began to pile

Copious consumption,

Destroyed hotel rooms and marital strife,

Became the headlines

Of a troubled life

Yet, through the swirling madness fray,

A second Major

At St Andrews

He did slay

A huge draw,

 Wherever he would put a tee in the ground

The gallery loved to watch

The golf ball he would pound

Always courteous,

Honest and fun,

It would be life’s excesses

That would give Long John a run

Yet through his follies

It is us we see,

A man searching for a beacon,

Adrift on the sea

Long John would return

At Memphis where,

Leaner, with fancy pants

And platinum blond hair

The galleries will follow

For love and to cheer

Huge roars of support

For birdies, we’ll hear

But golf, like life

Is a balance of over and under par

Not merely about

Hitting a ball far

No doubt

We all are John Daly fans

 But success this go-round

Is literally in his hands

So good luck, Long John

We wish you the best

Only we pray

It is not in jest