Here's an early hors De oeuvres to chew. Earlier this year, he was described in the same sentence of a prominent UK paper as a "lovely, gentle man," a "deep thinker" and a "slice of fruitcake." Even in the sauciest British tabloids, that's darned colorful.
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Then again, so is the lanky Swede, whose exploits over the years have become the stuff of laughable lore. We'd call the following biographical bits his greatest hits, but most of them have been misses:
The Swede once asked a friend to stay with him all night in his hotel room as he rolled short putts across the carpet. The friend's job was to batter Karlsson with a torrent of abuse every time he missed a putt.
He has gone on lengthy diets of nothing but bread and milk, an apparent attempt to cleanse his soul, not to mention his lower G.I. tract. He also experimented with a routine in which he didn't eat food after 4 p.m.
On an apparent quest to solve the mysteries of life and make himself mentally stronger, he reenacted the moments of conception, gestation and birth before emerging from the new-age womb a better man. No question, he has been a born-again Tiger in the majors this year, finishing eighth, seventh and fourth.
Even for Karlsson, as his professional life began to reach a new plateau, last year was particularly colorful. He was incorrectly listed as a member of a cult by a Swedish TV program, prompting him to retreat to the edge of the Arctic Circle to contemplate things. Then again, in fairness, that's like camping out in your backyard when you are from Sweden.
Thursday, the talkative Swede admitted to another quirky regimen from a decade ago -- eating volcanic dust for a few weeks, a culinary treat first espoused by Parnevik. Recalling the experience, Karlsson wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue. The taste sensation didn't exactly sweep the nation, but perhaps he gave it up too easily.
"I never tried it with catsup," he said.
For months, he has been molten lava on the leaderboard, although one particular item is missing -- a victory. He has seven on the European Tour to lead all Swedish players, but hasn't won since 2006, which isn't much before he started on his recent hot streak.
Some wonder why he hasn't played like this all along, since has the chops to play with the best. He's one of the longest players off the tee, stands sixth on the Euro circuit in putting and leads in scoring. Former Ryder Cup player Thomas Levet has played against Karlsson since they were teenagers.
"He is a helluva player with a lot of weapons," Levet said. "He's not afraid to go low."
Apparently not, since Levet recalled Karlsson winning one European junior tournament by around 16 shots, which wasn't unusual back then, the Frenchman said. Karlsson did it all the time.
But when his professional career was punctuated by unpredictable highs and lows, he began seeking answers in odd places, before Lundstrom straightened him out.
"The focus has been more inwardly, how I can be my best coach and not be dependent on anyone else," he said. "Her biggest goal is to make herself unemployed."
He's finding ways to spread his new mantra to others, too. In 2006, he started the Opening Key Foundation in Sweden, which might be the most far-flung charity to which any tour pro has been involved.
He sets aside earnings each week -- this week, it's 15 percent -- for a worthy person or organization in need. The goal is to give people in all walks of life a financial leg up, providing partial financial grants for education and social projects to the needy, or channel it to athletes, musicians and other artists.
The idea is for the recipient, like Karlsson, to become self-sufficient. The recipients are as eclectic as the golfer himself.
The foundation financially helped a woman in Sweden who opens her doors each summer to boys from a Russian children's home. An aspiring professional golfer from Turkey was given instruction in English so he could ply his trade on the world tours. An aspiring singer who was helped with lessons recently landed a role in High School Musical and sent a gushing letter of thanks to Karlsson.
"Those are the kinds of things, when you stand over a 10-foot putt that for me is worth $2,000, for them, it could be two or three singing lessons," he said.
He even helped build a go-kart track in the middle of nowhere in Lapland, located in northernmost Sweden.
"If you say I helped a go-kart track, they will kill me," he laughed. "It's professional carting, ones you compete in."
Fitting, since he could have been carted off professionally to a bed at the ha-ha hotel for the oddball things he has tried while trying to find peace with his life and chosen vocation.
Even his explanation of the journey sounds a little loopy.
"I don't need to prove that I'm good enough anymore," he said. "I am not going to be more happy if I win a major. It's not going to change my life.
"If I do, yes, it will probably change my life, but it would be icing on the cake. I feel I am really happy with my life now. I don't need to play golf well to be happy."
