John Daly hasn't won a major championship since the British Open in 1995. And if you don't count the time he hoisted the claret jug, Daly hasn't finished in the top 10 of a biggie since 1993, when he tied for third at the Masters. Otherwise, his majors record is bloated with the Tour's least-favorite word: CUT.

But for reasons that say as much about us as they do about Daly, the big Arkansas galoot remains as popular as ever. Ask a tournament director for his wish list of entries -- the guys who will guarantee boffo ticket sales -- and it will almost always include two names: Tiger and Daly. Ask advertisers for a golfer who can move product and you won't have to wait long for Daly's name to be mentioned. He sells cell phones, Chevys, golf balls, clubs, beverages, lumber, golf courses, energy drinks, million-dollar motor coaches and CDs.

	Listen to John Daly sing You Don't Know Me, from his upcoming album, This Is My Life.

"Genuine is the word to best describe him," says George Sine, who has one of the nation's longest job titles: Acushnet Company Vice President Golf Ball Marketing & Strategic Planning Worldwide. Sine and Acushnet took the Nestea Plunge with Daly and made him the centerpiece of its Pinnacle ball advertising campaign. He has company in the commercials and print ads, but it's obvious Daly is the lead singer in this group. "At the end of the evaluation, the present-day momentum and the future prospects outweigh any reservations of the past," says Sine.

Translation for those without MBAs: Sine doesn't think we'll be reading about Daly in rehab, in divorce court, or in debt anytime soon. If anything, Sine says, "John's best golf is ahead of him."

Daly is a rarity: a pot luck dinner of flaws, failings, excesses and excellence. In other words, he's human. His idea of the perfect meal involves a McDonald's drive-thru. He drinks Diet Cokes like he's trying to get into Ripley's. A pack of Marlboros is almost always within reach.

On a grander scale, Daly has made a fortune and lost it too. He's on Wife No. 4. He drank himself into the Betty Ford Clinic and out of a Callaway endorsement deal. He gambled himself deep into the red.

And yet, his galleries are second only to Tiger's. Maybe it's the Supercuts hairdo, the gut, the 330-yard drives ... the idea that Daly is just a regular schmoe. He is capable of signature moments when you least expect them (The 1991 PGA Championship comes to mind. That victory at St. Andrews is another. Even his win last year at the BMW was a Daly keeper.), but you also wouldn't be surprised if he were a defendant on Judge Judy one of these days.

	Daly is still the second-biggest draw in the PGA.

Or, as one golf club rep whispered as he watched Daly on the driving range at the recent U.S. Open: "He's got a little NASCAR in him."

At Bethpage the main putting green area was near the clubhouse. To get to the driving range a player had to walk up a small flight of stairs, across a short bridge, down the stairs and then take a courtesy cart about 100 yards to the practice facility. When Daly made his way down those stairs, the crowd erupted into a deafening cheer.

"Is it always like this?" I asked Daly's manager and boyhood friend, Donnie Crabtree.

"All the time," he said.

Asked later about the crowds, about how they seem to relate to him, Daly offers a theory. "I feel like my life has helped a lot of people," he says. "A lot of people go through divorce. A lot of people go through depression. A lot of people drink too much. They see that I surived those things and they think, 'Hey, that's pretty cool.' "

Daly has his demons, but he also has his angels. If your car is broken down on the side of the road, he'll stop. It's just the way he's always been. When the people at the Make-A-Wish Foundation call for a fundraising favor, he can't say yes fast enough. Same goes for the folks at the Boys and Girls Club.

One time a Make-A-Wish kid mentioned how much he liked the Oakley sunglasses Daly was wearing. The next day a case of the specs was delivered to the child's house.

"He's got the biggest heart of anybody I've ever met," says Mary Helen Randall of Make-A-Wish Foundation of the Mid-South.

	Daly never saw a buffet he didn't like.

"He'll be the first one to tell you he's made a lot of mistakes," says Crabtree. "But if they hadn't happened, well, that's why he is what he is."

Here's what he is: the XXL of screwups who's trying to make things right. Will he make more mistakes? Maybe. Probably. That's partly what makes Daly so intriguing -- you never know.

But there's more to it than wondering if he'll crash and burn again. The real fun would be if Tiger and Daly somehow were paired in the final group of the final round of the British come July 21 at Muirfield.

Who do you root for: Tiger and a third consecutive Grand Slam victory? Daly and his first Tour win since '95?

I'll go with Daly. But I've always had a soft spot for present-day momentum.

Gene Wojciechowski is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at gene.wojciechowski@espnmag.com.