I pay absolutely zero attention to golf, other than having a general disdain for it and people who enjoy it. But I know who John Daly is, because he’s a golfer known for being fat, having a mullet, drinking and smoking. Last night, I may very well have driven next to him for roughly 3/4 of a mile. Maybe.
This weekend, my wife texted me while meeting a friend for lunch that she was thinking of ordering a John Daly drink: iced tea, lemonade and vodka. I thought this was funny because it’s obviously a play on a boozy Arnold Palmer. She didn’t know who John Daly is, so I explained that he’s a golfer known for drinking and smoking a lot. Jokes aren’t as funny when you have to explain them.
Last night on my way home from work, a white Mercedes E-Class with a magnet on the door that said something like American Family Insurance Official Vehicle came up an on-ramp onto the highway next to me, and I noticed that its driver was smoking a cigarette. He was also wearing a white ballcap that looked vaguely golf-ish.
The combination of Mercedes, insurance company magnet (AmFam is based here in Madison and one of the biggest companies in town) and cigarette seemed a little odd to me. Because insurance agents get company cars like Camrys, and they certainly wouldn’t smoke in them.
I continued on my way, and then thought, hey, golf tournaments have official cars, there’s a fancy golf course not far from where I was, and maybe this person who didn’t give a shit about smoking in a Mercedes with an official AmFam something-or-other magnet on the side was John Daly.
I wanted to take a picture, but he was already several car lengths behind me. I didn’t want to conspicuously slow down and point my phone at him, so I did a side view mirror shot.
It’s gotta be him.