"John, you gonna be here long?" a guy yells.
Be here all day, John Daly says.
Daly wears a red Made in Detroit jacket, a multi-colored cap pulled low and big dark sunglasses.
He is not at the Masters. He's across the street in his Prevost motor coach. On the door are stickers -- Arkansas and Razorbacks and Dallas Cowboys. He could drive a ball from his coach to the Augusta National Golf Club property.
Above one side of the coach is a National Hills Animal Hospital sign. On the other side is a billboard with a picture of Phil Mickelson and a Rolex.
Daly is selling wares. Step right up.
Two Spanish speaking guys do. They don't buy anything, though.
On the long table in front of the coach are two books: "Golf My Own Damn Way" and "My Life in and out of the Rough.' There are T-shirts, golf balls and towels. It's like a flea market with Daly stuff, and Daly will autograph everything.
He won't do interviews, though. Cigarette in mouth, he communicates via Twitter.