A Puncher's Chance
The term 'puncher's chance' is used to refer to a situation where someone who is clearly outskilled or outclassed by an opponent can nonetheless defeat the opponent because of one big, ridiculous, high-variability weapon that they possess.
Perhaps the term should be used more in golf. If John Daly wins his third (yes, it will be three, compared to the total number of majors won by Colin Montgomerie, Lee Westwood, Justin Rose, Paul Casey, Sergio Garcia, Kenny Perry, Steve Stricker..., well, you get the idea...) major, it will be because of this term- the 'puncher's chance.'
John Daly is not nearly as skilled as the mentioned players. In any given regular tournament, the odds of him making it to the top of the tournament compared to these other players is small. It wasn't always that way- Daly actually is quite a bit more accomplished than he gets credit for- he also finished third in a Masters once, and has won a half-dozen or so meaningful tournaments around the world- but he can't be counted on week-to-week, and his performance is so erratic that it can't really be characterized or analyzed in a meaningful way.
But Daly has two weapons that others don't have. Both weapons are cruel in their own way.
Daly has an legendary, borderline prodigious drive. When Daly is able to successfully drive the ball, he changes the game in a way that the other players cannot. He simply hits harder- hard enough to knock a player, or a course, down. Part of Daly's first win at St. Andrews was simply that he disregarded all common strategy because he could the ball with enough force to end up in parts of the course that other players couldn't get to, much as they would want to. It's fifteen years later- Daly has lost weight, his self-respect, his money, probably his fame- but not this drive. It is still cruel, unrelenting. It still can tame a course in the way that only Woods can, and it still puts him on the first page of leaderboards.
But Daly also has a rather blatant disregard for the "moment." Daly doesn't characterize himself is a two-time major winner; rather, he characterizes himself as fun-loving. He loves his alma mater, and golf is his meal ticket. Because golf is a meal ticket, and not a validation device, Daly has, at times, a mental edge over his competitors. If Daly melts down at the end of a tournament, it's an effort thing- it's not a nerves/composure thing. Daly will wake up and smoke a cigarette the next day, and life will go on. How's Lee Westwood feeling after blowing his major chances?
Facing Daly is an unnerving position for his competitors to be put into. At times, facing Daly is, in a weird way, like facing a crazy person. You know that you're in a place where you have little control over the situation- who can 'put pressure' on John Daly? The PGA Tour can't. Tiger Woods can't. Nobody can. You just have to hope that he doesn't land a punch.
Perhaps the term should be used more in golf. If John Daly wins his third (yes, it will be three, compared to the total number of majors won by Colin Montgomerie, Lee Westwood, Justin Rose, Paul Casey, Sergio Garcia, Kenny Perry, Steve Stricker..., well, you get the idea...) major, it will be because of this term- the 'puncher's chance.'
John Daly is not nearly as skilled as the mentioned players. In any given regular tournament, the odds of him making it to the top of the tournament compared to these other players is small. It wasn't always that way- Daly actually is quite a bit more accomplished than he gets credit for- he also finished third in a Masters once, and has won a half-dozen or so meaningful tournaments around the world- but he can't be counted on week-to-week, and his performance is so erratic that it can't really be characterized or analyzed in a meaningful way.
But Daly has two weapons that others don't have. Both weapons are cruel in their own way.
Daly has an legendary, borderline prodigious drive. When Daly is able to successfully drive the ball, he changes the game in a way that the other players cannot. He simply hits harder- hard enough to knock a player, or a course, down. Part of Daly's first win at St. Andrews was simply that he disregarded all common strategy because he could the ball with enough force to end up in parts of the course that other players couldn't get to, much as they would want to. It's fifteen years later- Daly has lost weight, his self-respect, his money, probably his fame- but not this drive. It is still cruel, unrelenting. It still can tame a course in the way that only Woods can, and it still puts him on the first page of leaderboards.
But Daly also has a rather blatant disregard for the "moment." Daly doesn't characterize himself is a two-time major winner; rather, he characterizes himself as fun-loving. He loves his alma mater, and golf is his meal ticket. Because golf is a meal ticket, and not a validation device, Daly has, at times, a mental edge over his competitors. If Daly melts down at the end of a tournament, it's an effort thing- it's not a nerves/composure thing. Daly will wake up and smoke a cigarette the next day, and life will go on. How's Lee Westwood feeling after blowing his major chances?
Facing Daly is an unnerving position for his competitors to be put into. At times, facing Daly is, in a weird way, like facing a crazy person. You know that you're in a place where you have little control over the situation- who can 'put pressure' on John Daly? The PGA Tour can't. Tiger Woods can't. Nobody can. You just have to hope that he doesn't land a punch.
posted by mike at 9:50 PM
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