If you’re in Augusta this weekend for that one golf tournament where the people compete for a jacket or whatever, forget trying to spend a boatload of cash on tickets that will allow you to dress like you’re playing golf while you’re actually just watching other guys play golf. Instead, swing by the Hooters breastaurant located at 2834 Washington Road in Augusta, where the real party is always happening, and it always begins with PGA legend and god among rednecks, John Daly.
Cedar Rapids Gazette scribe Mike Hlas snapped the above portrait of Daly in action yesterday, as the master of the long drive and Loudmouth pants had set up shop in the Hooters parking lot, as it has become his annual tradition. From his trusty, old RV, Daly sells merchandise and autographs, and poses for photos with fans, because there are just no three things that go together quite like the Masters tournament, John Daly and a Hooters parking lot. And don’t worry about hurrying over first thing in the morning to get a picture with a fashion icon. He’ll be out there doing his thing from “10 til dark.” Why 10? Because if God wanted Daly up before then, he’d quit giving him hangovers.
There is one important tidbit that Daly’s Dudes should know before they hit up Hooters for the PGA’s biggest event, though, and the Florida Times-Union’s Garry Smits has you covered. It’s about that sweet American pastime that all guys love. Haha, no, not watching the Masters and eating Buffalo wings. He’s talkin’ about gettin’ laid.
Male customers need to understand something if they don’t already: this is likely the worst place in Augusta to be if you’re single and are attempting to procure female companionship. The crowd is 90 percent male, easily, and the testosterone is palpable. Sports on TV, cigars, beer, cocktails and golf talk dominate the night.
Adding cachet is John Daly’s annual appearance in the parking lot. Long John parks his RV near the Hooters entrance, sets out a few tables and starts selling hats, t-shirts, club-head covers, mugs, coozies, logo ball and anything else with his name or logo on it. Hooters customers are JD’s natural consituency. If there was ever a guy in his element, this is it.
But here’s the reality check: the waitresses probably should save some guys a lot of time by wearing halter tops that not only say “Hooters” but in smaller print, underneath, say, “you have no shot.”
He’s totally right. That’s why I’ll invoke the wise words of the late, great Pete Hornberger, who knew that the best and safest way to eat Hooters is to get takeout, because: “We’ll know they touched it.” Wiser words, folks.
