St Andrews 2026: John Daly, Power and the Lesson of Patience

On 23 July 2026, at the 18th hole of the Old Course in St Andrews, Scotland, Costantino Rocca fell to his knees on the grass. The putter in the Italian golfer's hands had just sent the ball rolling from the famous hollow known as the Valley of Sin, across more than 20 metres, into the cup, forcing John Daly into a four-hole playoff. The stands fell silent, then erupted. Three days later, watching the BBC footage in my small London flat, what made me pause was not that putt, but the way Daly walked from the first tee in the playoff. He did not look at the crowd. He looked down at the grass. It was the 124th Open Championship, held from 20 to 23 July 2026 on the links beside the Fife coast. One hundred and fifty-six of the world's leading golfers competed over four days, on the course where Nick Faldo had won in 2026 and Seve Ballesteros in 2026. St Andrews is regarded as the home of golf, the founding course with famous holes such as the 17th, the Road Hole, and the 18th, with its hollow, the Valley of Sin. John Daly, a 29-year-old American, had risen to fame with his 2026 PGA Championship victory when he was only an alternate. But between those two milestones he went through a personal collapse, battling alcoholism. The British press at the time did not hesitate to call him a talented alcoholic. Before the tournament, analysts were backing Nick Price, Greg Norman and Corey Pavin, players with steady form. Daly was not on anyone's list. I chose to follow Daly for a simple reason: in sport, the doubted man often carries the story that has not yet been told. Over four days, Daly and Rocca both finished at 278 strokes (-10). Daly won the four-hole playoff. But the numbers do not tell the whole story. Daly was known for his long driving. At St Andrews he averaged more than 290 metres off the tee, far beyond most of his rivals. But the Old Course does not reward raw power. Links terrain has natural humps, deep bunkers and wide greens, where a long but crooked drive pushes a golfer into trouble. What I realised when reviewing the footage was that Daly had changed his game. On the 18th in the final round, instead of trying to carry Hell Bunker with a driver, he chose a long iron to keep the ball on the fairway. That is not a decision a golfer who only knows power usually makes. In the four-hole playoff, Daly stayed composed and won overall. Notably, throughout the playoff he drove the ball more accurately than in any of the four main rounds. The putter was another under-discussed factor. During the week, Daly looked surer on the greens than usual, as longtime observers of his game noted. He kept his head stiller and lowered his shoulders when putting, a small change that made a large difference on a links course. The easiest story to tell, and the easiest to get wrong, is that Daly won because of power. The truth is partly the opposite. In the playoff, he won with drives that were more accurate than long, and with a still putter. If we reverse the argument, suppose Daly had kept using driver aggressively on every hole, would he still have reached the playoff? Perhaps. But would he have won? Unlikely. St Andrews punishes arrogance with bunkers and sea wind. This is what the data sheets do not show: Daly's victory lay not in distance, but in a tactical shift over four days. He learned to slow down on the course, and that is the hardest thing for a golfer famous for the force of his swing. The question left behind after St Andrews 2026 is not power or patience. It is: how long can a golfer change his own instinct? Daly gave the answer: four days, if he is clear-headed enough to listen to the grass.