UNFUNNY LIFE of DAVID FEHERTY

DBSPBRAIB I I M B S
The
UNFUNNY
LIFE of
DAVID
FEHERTY
Everyone wonders what
famous people are really like
when no one is watching. In
the case of golfs funniest
man, his home movie is a tale
fromthe dark side.
By C o n n e l l B o r r e t t
P h o t o g r a p h y by K a r e n K u e h n
DESPERATE TIMES
T
HERE were always signs that David Feherty's charmedlife could implode,but when you're
the life ofthe party no one-especially you-wants to let those signs get inthe way of a good
time. In 1986,hewonthe Scottishopen, the biggestvidory ofhis career. "They handedme
the trophy-a big-ass silver cup," Feherty says. "The oldest trophy in all of sport. I drankall
sorts of map fromit.Iwokeuptwo dayslater onthe 16thtee at Gleneagles,whichmakesno sense,because
o wont he tournamentin~l&~ow
[45miles away]. I openedmy eyesto seeblue skies a n d ~ e t e r ~ r a n t ,
the roadmanagerfor Led Zeppelin. I hadn't seenhim in ages. He's saying, You allright? And the trophy's
gone. Justf---in' gone.They never did find it. That was a low point."
"I was a spectacular drunk,"
Feherty says, "the Tiger
Woods of drinking. I held
court. I was lucid and funny
and charming. People
gravitated toward me.lwasa
poster child for excess
without consequence. But
all along, I was just masking
a stunning sense of worthlessness. of beine a fraud. I
despise myself in so many
ways sometimes."
ff hear in^ ~ e h esav
r ~that I
surprises you, it shodldn't,
because even though he was
a Tour player he was never
really a Tour player. He was
too smart, too funny, too
aware of his own fallibility
and the absurdity of life to be
one of those players who
says, "Fairways and greens,
one shot at a time." He was
creative. but not hit-a-deftwedge creative. Itwasn't like
that David Feherty wam'ta profw~onal
golfer who happened to be very funnyhe was araregenuinewit who happened
to be a very good golfer. He had
something other Tour players didn'ta beautifulmind.And thaf asit turn out
in his case and that of many other
hyper-creative people, is as much a
curse as a blessing,particularlywhen the
high-capacity brain is attacked by the
h t d twins of selfdesmction: boozefueled depression and depression-
-
154 GOLF M A G U I N E IUWE 2006
I
and toes tingle and go numb.
You shiver and shake. Your
egs ache Your
are heavy.
~ k gra\.lt).
e
magn~fied-l~ke
!.ou-have a degenerative
rnuscle disease. You curl up
and clutch yourself, lying on
your side,because that makes
~t hurt less. And you see
things. Hallucinations that
vou can't banish. The most
unspeakable, horribleimages
vlav
mind. like a
' , i n vour
,
I ilorror movie you can't turn
off. And you...%eherty goes
quiet for a few beats.
"That's another thing," he
says. "I have no f-in' idea
ivhatljust said. It's the shortterm memory loss, the main
side effect of the depression
medicine. They throw pills at
you to see what sticks. 1 have
little blackoutperiods. Once,
I couldn't fmd theliauor store.
I'd been there a hundred
times. I'm walking around in a haze,
thinking, OK I know it was hereyesterday.
Where'd they put it? Now, when I can't
find a liquor store, that's saying
something."
It's classic Feherty-classic Irish,
really. Use self-deprecatinghumor to
mask the ordealofexisting. Even at that,
Feherty recognizes the difference
between being Funny and being stupid,
and he seethes (more classic Irish)
when people trivialize the effects of
I
fueled boozing.
"If you have a soul, that's where it
starts,"Feherty saysabout depression,
his Irishlilt small and sad, not full ofhell
like it is when he's working a CBS
telecast or starring in a Cobra
commercial. "That space that occupies
the deepest part of you. It touches every
bone and fiber and muscle. It is you.
Your mind is like a crowded cafe, with
57 voices chattering at once. You can't
tell them apart.Yougo cold.Your fingers
depression on the soul. "Tom Cruise
says there'sno such thiig as depression.
that you can getbetter with physical
exerdse. Well, maybe he's right-beating
the shit out of Tom Cruise would be
physical all right, and it would f-in'
cheer me up, and a whole lot of other
people."
B
Y 1995, Feherty's heart was on
"Tom Cruise says
there's no such thin^
as depression, that
you can get better
with physical
exercise.Well, he's
right-beating the
shit out of Tom Cruise
would be physical all
right, and it would
cheer me up."
0
the ground. He was living in
Dallas, his first marriage had
dissolved, and his best playing days
were a memory. So were his winnings
from nearly 20 years as a pro. ("I spent
a lot of money on fast cars, women
and alcohol," he says. "The rest I just
squandered.") He was scrawny,broke
and broken. He ran 15 miles a day to
quiet his racing mind. He'd lost his
playing privileges in the States. When
a friend fixed him up with his current
wife, Anita, a willowy brunette with
warm green eyes, he showed up
smashed for their date at an Italian
restaurant "I thought,She'sgorgeous. I'm
f-ed. What do I have to oJer? So I arrived
He wasn't unemployed for long.Afew
drunkand gotdrunker." He gulped her months after their wedding, Feherty
Bellini She asked ifhe was HIV positive. was at a hotel bar in Ohio, drinking
"How's that for firstdate small talk?"he again-"vodka-and-Gatorade, I was on a
says with a laugh. "She left after 30 health kick-when CBS golf producer
minutes." But Anita liked his wit and Lance Barrow approached him about
vulnerability. She agreed to another doing TV. "I'd last interest in playing,"
date-if he'd stay sober. He did. They Feherty says. "And TVwas always in the
mamedinMay 1996. "That was the frst back of my mind. I had the advantage of
time she saved me," he says. "I was anI%haccen< which is a huge help. And
penniless,jobless,homeless and drunk. 1had a good relationship with players
and caddies,because I spent a lot of time
Sorry, ladies. I'm taken!"
with caddies doing what caddies dogetting all f-ed up."
Feherty's droll, cheeky style
immediately impressed viewers and
colleagues alike. "One ofhis first events
was the '97 AT&T [at Pebble Beachl,"
Barrow recalls. "Tiger Woods hit a
dangerous3wood approach to thegreen
on the lath,whichruns along thepacific.
David stops him walking off and says,
'Tiger, great shot. But didn't you see
that big blue thing to your left? That's
typical David. He can ask an ordinary
question in an extraordinary way."
Everyone knows Feherty, 47, is funny
on the air, but the real show-the one
you'd pay to hear-begins when the
network cuts to commercials. When
he works the booth, as he did perched
above Pebble Beach's eighth green on
Friday of this year's AT&TPebbleBeachNational Pro-Am, the crew's laughter
literally shakes the tower during breaks.
On the chilly air: "I'm freezing my
nads off. It's snot-blindinglycold. There
are twolumps inmy throat, and I think
it's my raisins."
O n the marshals' baggy white
knickers and red-and-navy stockings:
"Those outfits guarantee you'll never,
ever get laid."
On short putts: "My, that's a testy 5footer. Speaking of testy 5-rooters,
where's Lanny?"
On Roger Maltbie, walking off the
green: "He's 6 inches taller when he's
lying on hi back. Come on, fat boy!
Look up here! He's like an oil tanker. It
IUNE 2006 GOLF MAGAZINE 155
takes him three or four holes to change
direction."
Maltbielooksup, waves and smiles at
golf's Don Rickles. The game's names
love the abuse, and few escapeFeherty's
jabs. He dubbed Jack Nicklaus the
designer "a landscaper on acid,'' and the
Bear laughed it off. "My god, you're an
asshole," he told Ken Venturi when
they met; the vinegary commentator
squinted,cocked his head, and declared,
"I like you, kid!"
"~t's.hilarious,"Feherty says. "People
don't take me seriously when I call
them a nut sack,but guess what? 1really
think you're a nut sack. But it doesn't
mean1 don'tlkeyou. It means1 do." To
Feherty, the gentle abuse offers the
abused a chance for dignity: rise above
or return fire.
n EHIND all the ~ u n c lines
h there
were eoual Daits emmv bottles
U and iniernal chaos: i n 2000,
Feherty was misdiagnosed with adult
attentiondeficit disorder,and his dedine
continued for three yeariuntil he sought
a second opinion and learned he was
suffering from clinical depression.
Alc3holand depresston arr a lethal
muc, h ~ doctors
s
ivarncd. BUI hr SIIII
wasn't ready to quit. The h;llluc~nat~ons
were grouing mar? Ircqucnt a11dviv~d,
and drinking szcme~l1.) hzlp He Iovsd
the bottleand still rctncmh<rz111shtg11octane exploits Itkc .I I. ,ng-lostIJYC
"There's nothing worse than a
reformed whore," he says. "I'm not
banish images of the dreadful things
saying it's agreatidea to go out and
people do. The tortured soldier or
getwrecked. I'mjust saylngihad a
molested child would be my
good time. It almostklledme, but
child. I'd see a lolife raised over
it was a hell of agood time."
my daughterEnqandthementa1
ltwas thewinter of 2004 when
picturewasunbearable.Before
Feherty faced the full fury of his
I knew it, the collar of my
own mind. He spent days at
shirtwas soakedandI'dbe
a time trembling beneath
crying like a baby. If I was
a blanket i n his den,
driving, I'd have to pull
squeezing back tears.
over. Even if 1banged my
head against the wheel,
itwouldn'tgo away"
Feherty hid his grief
from his closest friends,
hhrw bM.d had. lam
m r w i h S b w WIII.M.
GOLFONLINE.COM
Yet CBS golf analyst Peter Kostis could see
the storm clouds on his colleague's face.
Adear friendof the family (Erincalls him
Uncle Peter), Kostis grew concerned
when Feherty grew quiet. "There's
nothing in the Feherty genes that's
quiet,"Kosfissays."Heck, wen when he's
asleep, he's farting. But I could see a
d a r h w there, and I'd ask ifhewas OK."
Often duting that longwinterof 2004,
Erin,then 5, the youngest of his five
children, would climb on top of her
immobile dad. ("She used m e as
furniture," he says.)It helped to hold her,
to saatch her back, but soon she was off
to bed or school.His wife,Anita,covered
him with a blanket Shebelieved she was
watching him die. He felt the kindest act)
IUNE 2006 GOLF MAGAZINE I57
DBSPBRATB TIMES
"Even now,people
ask mewhat I feel
like.Well, I feel like.;
&-in'
*, &t$~
.
what I feel'like."
Knockdown
shots
Behold ow CdMine
H)
k u o r i t e ~ a m
,
On lim Fmryk'a loopy drip
'Helooklikeaman trying to k I. a
snake in a phone bootn.'
O.IkcLkY.c"Theon~vtime
he opens hismouth istochange
Msfeet"
On iliddauscoums 'They're a
lot like hot air dryersin public
lavatories-they're a good idea.
but theytake too long."
On Gary McCod "He'sso cheap,
hewakes upin themiddleofthe
night tomakesure hedidn't law?
any sleep:'
onj.kn i).1* w w n h k s
like he has adlwtwermchew."
OI n
pWOO*
coats, cuckoo'snestmab Ithouprht
Why thef- is rhiigtnng throughmy h&d,
Should I b e p u ~an.uy?Amla dan~ertomy
jamiIyZm
Feherty remembers the day when
the fog began to lift Jan..86,2005. H e
had spent~thenight before drunk and
nqrly wmatoseinhisrediner.athomq
a &ed bottle of Bushmdls on the table
beside him. He was almost camtonic
with despau, and felt as ifthe ody thing
hecould move was hisieyeballs.AShe
wqpinhiswlumninthismagizhelast
-
'
ha(.:
'Never has r n q flabberDWn so
.p..~"&gh&rnore ear and
kiostril haat."
OI b a.*limp "On a oad day,
It was l~ke
e privy door on atraw er
n the miodleofthe Atlantrc"
On lhe Lor, &wru w m t shot
denkficpdncwanuE "I'm here
haldiq Loren Roberts' bruised
Rut"
OnTim
'HIS dao says
ne knevln~sson wo~lobe asoeclal
athiefewhen ne was three days old
Threeaays olav anat dl0 me K I ~
IF
1
1
1
J~~~E~climbedup~onhisla~;~rabb
EHERTY'S thoughtsretum'@&he.- .Ms~ears,leaned her .forehead o n his
images of a hand and a kniferan$ : + % ~ @
"Dad,
~ dyouneed
,
another bode."
his daughter. "1 couldn't~seedm: @iie looked so kady3eherty says. -1
waS holdingtheknife," he sa+."&~:
Q&&ht, Holy shitlI do need.another
had this
sickening*
th&$
Ih;(.t her to get me one
i t was my haria. The imaxe..cti~e
b&?' .3 , . . w stop when you're not
over and over. I'd walk~$sfairsa&?$
&d need to be? That was a
wakehoupwdhaldher.&$ei,and~@,
say ri myself, She's hcfe. W@h&gf'
'.&&&&$~edher
daughterfetch the
w m ~ ~ t s o m ~ ~ ~ &
. i,&Ea
,..-~.
knew then she'd had
would happen ro one of your ch@&i&$i &&$$L
@
,:ei
next morning, after
anvone's worst fear. and mv miii&wia% %&@.@gEm
off at school,Anita found
6& $$:bed, enduring his .daily
@&p#@:;.
She told him he was an,
'
@
+@
&
:L
a :G
,
158 GOLF MAGAZINE
lUNE 2006
60LFONLlNE.WM
DESPERATE TIMES
"There's a stigma
attached to mental
illness.You can get
better, but you can't
do it alone."
alcoholic, and that if he didn't quit
drinking,she would take EM andleave.
X daughter finds a man like her father
for a husband," Anita says. "1 didn't
want her to marry an alcoholic. So I
asked him for 90 days of sobriety And he
told me he would stop."
Those first few weeks were
horrendous.He had the shakes. He had
insomnia. He snapped at Anita, or his
!?ends, "and David doesn'thavea mean
bonein his body," says a longtimefriend.
At the NEC InvitationallastAugust, he
was reading a Tiger Woods putt aspart
of his television footsoldier duty when
SteveWilliams playfully offered Feherty
his boss's putter and asked, "Would
you like to putt it for him?" Feherty
mismok the comnent as anorder to back
oNand shot back, "Whydon't you take
a half hour off from being an asshole?"
(Feherty later apologized.)
"When we're working, we all ride
herd on him," says Kostis. "We have his
back-me, McCord, Lance Barrow.
Though we still get nervous. David took
up clay shooting a while back, and
McCord and I would look at each other
and say, A
' drunk, depressed Irishman
with a shotgun? Not a good thing."'
Feherty is the first to handicap his
fragile sobriety "Even now, people ask
me how I feel. Well, I feel like a f-in'
drink, that's what I feel like.The pain is
unbearable sometimes, and I feel like
shit, and I know release is just a drink
away."
He's stumbled a few times since
Jan. 26, 2005. He took a three-week
alcohol-iday lastJune for his dad's 80th
birthday in Ireland. ("I toldpeople 1got
dmnk once, but it was for three weeks.")
A month later, rn the middle of the
mght, he threw offhis hotel roomsheets
and r~ppcdopen h s locked muu-har (he
dcclines the key when checking in) like
dgnuly going at a rrash can He drank
all theJack Daniel's he could fmd,whch
wasn't much-four minibottles.
Otherwise, he says, he's been dry.
"Earlier this year, on our West Coast
swing,I'mwatchingTVin bed late one
night when thephone rings," saysGary
McCord. "It's David. He says, 'What
are you doing? 1 told him. He says,
'Can I come over and watch with you?
David has never done that. 'Why? I ask.
Hesays, 'Because the mini-bar is talking
to me.' We watched TV for two hours,
lying on the bed together-kind of a
'Brokeback' moment. 1 love the guy.
Whatever he needs, David lmows he can
come to us for support."
oon alter he quit drinking,Feherty's
hallucinations all but stopped.
"They still come, but I can banish
themnow," he says. He still feels like he's
hiding around a corner, running from
something. "But this is easily livable,the
way Ifeel now. It's takenacombination
ofpills,therapy andnot drinking, butI'm
better every day Far too many people are
owned by addictionand devastated by
depression. There's such a stigma
attached to mental illness that they're
afraid to gethelp.You can getbetter,but
you can't do it alone."
When the depression creeps in, asit
does from time to time, Anita can spot
it. "There's an absence in his eyes," she
S
TMs phno helps D.vkl through dark lnolnHltr
says. "Hismouth seems to freeze,and his
tongue can't move the words. He has a
desperate look that makes everything
else stop."
The cure these days isn't whiskeyinduced oblivion. Instead, Feherty lies
on his side and curlsup, and Anita puts
his head in her lap, holding a framed
photo ofErinin front ofhis lace. In the
snapshot,Erinis diggingher toes into the
sand and laughing beneath a tangle of
curly brown hair. "It reminds David
what's waiting for him," Anita says.
"And it always brings him back."
.