“Hello, I’m the PGA and I’m Tiger Woods-dependent.”

“Hello, PGA.”

Welcome to rehabilitation.

Golf is experiencing Woods withdrawals strong enough to make John Daly take himself sort-of seriously.

Seriously.

Daly, in a veiled attempt to promote his reality TV show on the Golf Channel, announced both his retirement and un-retirement over the weekend.

That was the biggest story in the PGA since Tiger announced his plans to enter a sex addiction rehabilitation center and expelled himself from the PGA indefinitely.

Ratings for the first significant PGA event this weekend, P.T.S.D. (Post-Tiger Sex Disorder) were down a quarter.

Daly hasn’t won a major since 1995.

Welcome to the PGA’s cold reality, where old news drunks become stars in place of sex addicts.

Daly, of course, is popular because he is an anti-establishment rabble-rouser.

He is by many definitions a loser whose un-tapped potential and numerous vices make him an everyman.

Not only does Daly have the “everyone laughs at the fat guy” appeal, but he also has a “can’t-take-your-eyes-off-him-because-he-is-about-to-have-a-‘Cops’-style-episode” allure.

Daly is everything golf is not, and once again, he is the best thing it has.

Daly was the most interesting personality in the game before Woods came on the scene.

He hasn’t changed.

Has golf?

What better time for the PGA to self-evaluate?

Woods’ meteoric rise as a multi-racial player was titillating. His unmatched talent and competitive essence made golf must-see drama at least four times a year. His presence alone accounts for the game’s newfound popularity that’s both far- (international) and near- (urban) reaching.

In many ways, golf is facing a false dichotomy.

Woods’ appeal and Daly’s appeal are both of the same branch — they hint at inclusiveness, something the PGA brand hasn’t been able to consistently establish. They both defy the country club network.

Without them and the occasional Phil Mickelson choke job, golf is a bore.

It’s not a sport that naturally yields itself to the largest demographics. That was true decades ago, before media and entertainment expanded infinitely.

Besides, the PGA now has to compete with other previous fringe sports like UFC and the X Games, both of which were sculpted for prime demographics.

Intrinsically, the game cannot change. The only things that make it a sport — the skill, patience and focus elements — are the things that cannot be altered without stripping away it’s integrity.

Drunk mud wrestling with pigs might be fun to watch, and there are probably Spike TV reruns, but the PGA has no “Happy Gilmore” card to play.

The PGA needs to establish a personality that isn’t combustible.

We all thought that was Tiger Woods.

The absence of a legitimate threat to Woods’ reign, in the wake of Woods’ personal implosion, reveals a sport that lacks both talent and marketability.

And there doesn’t appear to be anyone on the horizon who can step into the void.

Tiger Woods can go and “clean up his life,” but he doesn’t need the game.

Until the PGA establishes a worthy rival, the game needs him.

And I’m not sure how you do that.

Reach the reporter at nruland@asu.edu