What a weekend in store for Boo

CARNOUSTIE, Scotland -- American golf phenomenon Boo Weekley, an avid outdoorsman whose idea of an ideal shotgun start is to blast away at ducks first thing in the morning, has an endorsement deal with a firm that makes outerwear for hunters and fishermen.

Boo Weekley sports some hunting long johns, not tattoos. (Getty Images)

So when the weather turned frigid this week at the British Open, he quickly dipped into his bag and produced some colorful long johns that were festooned in a greenish camouflage pattern.

Like this guy could ever blend in.

At the oldest golf tournament in the world, near the birthplace of the sport and before the landed gentry whose forefathers invented the game, a guy with a dribbling wad of tobacco chaw in his bottom lip is threatening to blow holes in Carnoustie Golf Links.

This is culture electro-shock.

"I didn't know it was the home of golf," Weekley said, grinning. "I thought the home of golf is where I was from."

A homespun pro from the wilds of the Florida Panhandle, Weekley is locked in the top 10 at a solid 2 under, four shots off the lead. Better yet, he's becoming a latter-day version of Mark Twain's fabled Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, though the star of this version hails from well south of the Mason-Dixon line and has a pronounced drawl, y'all.

From the developmental circuits and mini-tours to the grandest stage of all, the co-low American at the 136th Open is a guy who never before watched the event on television, much less envisioned winning it.

"I'm a firm believer that if you work at it and keep trying and keep believing, you're going to get where you want to go," Weekley said.

Who knew he was talking about going overseas?

Spain's Sergio Garcia continues to lead at 6 under after 36 holes, which seems only apt, since the last time he played at Carnoustie in 1999, he shot 89 and cried on his mother's shoulder. This time around, the sound is the same but the spelling is different -- and it's emanating from the gallery.

Boo who?

If the U.K. thought John Daly provided a trip through rural America, a victory by Weekley on Sunday would be almost indescribable. And possibly unintelligible. After all, when Daly won the British Open title in 1995, he was asked to say a few words on the 18th green and cracked, "What the hell do you want me to say?"