Daly Fades, Doesn’t Fold

The U.S. Open’s surprising story died Friday, quickly, bluntly, like John Daly’s cigarette on the 13th green, falling to the grass, burning dead away.

Daly stepped to the first tee at the Pinehurst No. 2 course at 8:30 a.m. looking like a blond Elvis with floppy hair, orange-tinted sunglasses and royal belly hanging over his silver-studded belt.

He finished it looking like, well, John Daly.

Chain smoking. Diet Pepsi chugging. Fingernail biting. Nervously chuckling.

“I guess I got my game back,” he said.

He started the second round near the top of the leaderboard.

He ended it buried in the sand, like his ball, on the ninth, twice.

From one stroke behind to eight strokes behind, From two under par to five over.

From comeback kid to just kid.

“I’m still going to eat cheeseburgers and Oreos again tonight,” he said. “Nothing better than stuffing your belly and going to sleep. It’s just great.”

You wondered if this would happen. With a guy who has missed the cut twice and withdrawn twice in his last five tournaments, you wonder about everything.

You walked 18 holes with him Friday because you wondered, and you weren’t the only one.

Much of the huge U.S. Open crowd walked with you, peering at Daly from underneath their hands as they would a car wreck, craning their necks to better see the blood, not being disappointed.

We saw a lob wedge shot that went straight up and rolled back to within a foot of its original position.

We saw Daly down an entire bottle of soda at the sixth tee, then bogey the hole after his tee shot rolled off the green.

We saw Daly shoot a double bogey on No. 14 after he paused on the fairway to sit on his bag, take off his right shoe and rub his foot.

We saw him step on glowing cigarettes on the green and in the rough after smoking them on the fairways.

About the only thing we didn’t see is the one thing we were certain we would see.

While he was losing it, we didn’t see him lose it.

The story died, but the integrity didn’t.

His putter quit, but for the first time in a long time, John Daly didn’t.

He didn’t walk off after complaining of the shakes, as he did two years ago in the U.S. Open.

He didn’t walk off after six-putting a hole, as he did two weeks ago.

He kept his sizable back straight, his expression firm. When fans waved, he waved back. When his putts veered--he missed seven of six feet or less--his long stride did not.

“I kept thinking, ‘This is going to change,’ ” Daly said. “And sooner or later, it will.”

An alcoholic, Daly has been thinking that since taking his last drink in 1997. Since struggling with three divorces. Since kicking himself over gambling debts that he says reached $9 million before his Callaway sponsor helped pay them off.

Is there any wonder that he has had only four top-10 finishes in the last four years, and nothing better than 14th this year?

“I keep thinking, one day I’ll put four good rounds of golf together again,” he said. “It just hasn’t happened yet.”

As he was leaving the 18th tee accompanied by that rare standing ovation given a guy who will barely make the cut, a fan shouted, “John, we’re pulling for you.”

He obviously didn’t mean for only this round.

And by now, I guess we all are.

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A scorecard sticks out of the back pocket of his baggy pants. A tacky gold bracelet dangles from his wrist.

He stands over a putt and pulls out a smoke and squints behind those orange sunglasses and you think what one fan was loudly thinking Friday as Daly walked off the 17th green.

“Hey John, where are you going after this?” the fan shouted. “We’ll go with you!”

He reminds us of our neighbors, our co-workers, ourselves. So goes Daly’s curse, and his charm.

While vacant-eyed statues like David Duval calmly walk and shoot from victory to victory, John Daly leans over the ball and sweats.

He still hits huge drives, but he doesn’t know where they are going. He still has a surprisingly deft short game, but when he misses, he misses by acres.

While many others here study and calculate and meditate before every shot, Daly just steps up and whales. He takes no more than one practice swing, two practice putts.

If he acts fidgety out there, perhaps it’s because he is always standing and waiting for one of his partners to hit the darn thing.

You wonder why somebody like Phil Mickelson has not yet won a major tournament.

You can’t believe that somebody like John Daly has won two.

You can’t believe that after Friday’s round, he acted more determined than disappointed.

He says it’s because of the talks with a sports psychologist, the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, the constant cellular phone calls to friends during times of instability.

“I try not to get too emotional or high or low anymore,” he said. “I just go with the flow.”

Before this weekend, considering his recent struggles, “I figured I wouldn’t even make the cut. I figured I would be packing my bags and watching the rest of the tournament on TV. Even today I turned to my caddie and said, ‘Who in the heck would think that after 25 holes here, I would be par?’ ”

Of course, he had four bogeys and a double bogey in his final 11 holes, changing that fast.

But today, like every day in the life of John Daly, is another chance.

“This game is so crazy,” he said, smiling. “With my ability and talent, if I get off to a decent start, no telling what could happen.”

He will not win. But it appears he will finish. For John Daly these days, one is about the same as the other.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.