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How Are We Going to Put it Back Together?

Jerry Tarde, Golf Digest

The first book I remember my father reading was Situation Golf by Arnold Palmer. The first golf tournament I remember watching was the 1972 U.S. Open at Pebble Beach won by Jack Nicklaus. In the way only sporting heroes speak to you, I’ve been rooting for pro golf my whole life, so take this as a lover’s lament, not the grieving of a cynic: Pro golf is broken, and I’m worried about how it can be put back together.

We shouldn’t be surprised by the inquiry because it follows a familiar pattern. Bret Stephens in The New York Times wrote that “brokenness has become the defining feature of much of American life: broken families, broken public schools, broken small towns and inner cities, broken universities, broken health care, broken media, broken churches, broken borders, broken government.” Why shouldn’t pro golf be broken?

We thought the PGA Tour was invincible until it wasn’t. We watched every other industry undergo disruption while pro golf only upticked continuously. Tournament prize money increased year after year despite recessions, wars, scandals, pandemics and all forms of economic turbulence.

Ever since World War II, pro golf built its foundation on five principles: (1) The top players like Arnie and Jack always put the game above themselves. (2) Golfers are accountable to their performance—nothing’s guaranteed. (3) The pro tours are kept in check and balance by the four independent governing bodies controlling the major championships and acting in the best interests of the game. (4) Pro golf is underpinned by charity; that’s why hundreds of volunteers show up every week to help run the tournaments. (5) The game’s leaders—not always, but generally—have used the time-honored Masters strategy of leaving money on the table in exchange for control and sustainability.

It began to break down when suspect morals and unlimited resources tested the first two principles. Some top players saw themselves as victims of income disparity and thought they were not only entitled to the growing prize money, but it wasn’t enough. Defections and betrayal followed.

The PGA Tour and the LIV Golf League fell into what historians have called Thucydides Trap. “It was the rise of Athens and the fear it instilled in Sparta that made war inevitable,” wrote the Ancient Greek general Thucydides. When a newcomer threatens authority, war is only averted with deft statecraft. Curiously given the short-game touch of its stars, the PGA Tour doesn’t do deft.

That’s how we got to where we are. Our immutable conscience will always cause us to struggle with the resolution of pro golf’s circumstance, but as Tiger Woods taught us, “It is what it is.” Power and money will be consolidated. Private equity and the Saudis will bring change and a new world order. The question remains, can all this brokenness get fixed?

It’s undeniable that we have a messy, uneconomical system. Two organizations based in New Jersey and Scotland make the rules; neither is a pro tour. Maybe the most influential governing body is a private golf club in Georgia. If pro golf were starting over, we would have one governance structure, one back office and the best golfers playing against each other more often. But I don’t think the PGA Tour’s new money realizes you can’t get from here to there.

When a newcomer threatens authority, war is only averted with deft statecraft. Curiously given the short-game touch of its stars, the PGA Tour doesn’t do deft.

If PGA Tour Enterprises is a for-profit venture, will the players and the investors continue to care about charity and the communities that have always supported pro golf? It’s telling that none of the investors are members of Augusta National, meaning part of the golf establishment. The bet is that they’re smarter than everybody who has run pro golf all these years, and that will be painful to see play out.

I was walking a tour course the other day when a billboard flashed the advertisement that “Konica Minolta is the official multifunction printer of the PGA Tour.” They’ve sold not only the silverware, but the spoons separate from the knives and forks. I said this to an insider, and he replied, “Hell, we’ve even sold the butter knives.” It’s hard to imagine two things: that the players aren’t already making enough money and that there’s a lot more money still to be extracted from media and sponsors.

Market forces determine what something’s worth, but an outside influence like the Saudi Public Investment Fund seems to have artificially inflated tour pros’ value, and they now think they’re worth that much. Maybe they are and maybe they aren’t, but we’ll see a reckoning in a couple of years.

There are two schools of thought: Some pros think they’re being exploited by the major championships, which return only 10 to 20 percent of revenue to the pros. The reality is that the majors probably could afford to pay back $30 million in purses (rather than the current $20 million) but nowhere near the 50-percent return the pros or new investors think they deserve. The other school of thought was expressed by a young major champion who said privately: “You gotta be kidding! I’d pay to play in a major; they don’t have to pay me. Win one and it’s life changing—you’ve made your career.” I’d hate to see the U.S. Open or Open Championship go the way of the AIG Women’s Open with title sponsors, but it may be necessary for the governing bodies to continue to service the world game with handicapping, agronomy and amateur competition.

The PGA of America faces a different challenge. With the DP (European) Tour and the PGA Tour under one roof, the players might implicitly boycott the Ryder Cup unless the PGA of America turns over control. Commissioner Jay Monahan’s a nice guy, but he has a fiduciary responsibility to call PGA of America CEO Seth Waugh and say, “Sorry, pal, but you’re going to sell us the Ryder Cup, and here’s what we’re going to pay.” Flush with private-equity cash, would it be a surprise if the PGA Tour also bought the PGA Championship? Maybe the club pros still get to wear their red plaid jackets and march in the TV parade, but have we seen the last of these majors played under PGA of America ownership?

What else will the PGA Tour buy? Besides giving $1 billion in equity to the players who remained loyal to the tour, they’ll probably start buying up the rights to tournaments. Only a handful of the current 40-plus PGA Tour events are owned by the PGA Tour, and none of the majors. If the tour owns the event and the arenas, there may be more profit. Gambling is uncharted territory, but investors believe owning golf betting will pay off. Media rights fees are another matter. Pay TV is under stress as revenue has declined seven percent annually with the shift from cable to streaming. Live sports may be the lifeblood of media, but the deep dark secret is: Pro golf’s a minor sport that doesn’t draw the audiences or drive the subscriptions of the NFL, NBA, college football, the Olympics or Premier League. Will big new media still value little old golf? (Full disclosure: Golf Digest’s owner, Warner Bros. Discovery, might be one of those bidders.)

All the question marks are about pro golf, not the game we play. If the brokenness gets fixed, it’ll be because recreational golf is incredibly healthy.

But all the question marks are about pro golf, not the game we play. If the brokenness gets fixed, it’ll be because the PGA Tour is only the tip of the iceberg. Recreational golf is the 99 percent below the surface, and it’s incredibly healthy. All the leading indicators of participation are showing sustainable growth. It’s more diverse; the business is stronger; golf-course construction has started to reverse its decades of decline, and new variations on the old game are attracting kids and women at record levels. What COVID started, remote work and a strengthening U.S. economy ensures. Just look at the latest study released by the National Golf Foundation:

• Rounds played are up 20 percent since the start of the pandemic (2019), an all-time record at 531 million.

• More than 90 percent of golfers expect to play as much or more in 2024.

• “Green-grass” participation hit 26.6 million last year—the biggest single-year jump since the Tiger Slam (2001).

• On-course participation growth since Covid shows increases in play by youth (up 40 percent), people of color (up 27 percent) and women (up 25 percent).

• Sixty percent of the growth since 2019 has been female participation.

• Latent demand among non-golfers’ interest in taking up the game has hit a record 22.4 million.

• Alternative forms of the game like Topgolf are up 130 percent, driving a record number of total golfers to 45 million, and people with this off-course experience are five to six times more interested in playing on-course golf, portending even better news for the game’s future.

• Here’s the one I like best: Stanford University analysis of vehicle and phone GPS data suggests the increase in rounds played has been powered by Monday-Thursday play. Don’t tell your boss, but early-week tee times are fueling the boom.

The view here then is that the amateurs will help bail out the pros. The new tour can expect years of disruption, but the five original principles that guided the professional game since WWII will prevail. I think it was Churchill who said, “You can always count on golfers to do the right thing, after they’ve tried everything else.”

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Here is the best line from this great piece by Jerry Tarde:

It began to break down when suspect morals and unlimited resources tested the first two principles. Some top players saw themselves as victims of income disparity and thought they were not only entitled to the growing prize money, but it wasn’t enough. Defections and betrayal followed.

Here’s my shortened version:

“What’s best for the game” was replaced by “What’s best for me.”

Selfishness and greed, a central feature of the human condition, had won again.

The Head Nut

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Excerpted from A Beautiful Ache: The Surprising Joys of Attending The Masters in Unsettled Times, by Chris Jones of Golf Digest

Some people will tell you that the single best thing about Augusta National is the pimento cheese sandwich, still sold wrapped in green plastic for $1.50. Those people are lying to you, and you should never trust them. The pimento cheese sandwich isn’t even the best sandwich on the grounds. That would be the Georgia peach ice cream sandwich. Heaven’s dessert.

No, the single best thing about Augusta National is the enforced absence of cellphones. It is a glorious directive, made greater for how fanatically it’s enforced. A patron wearing his ballcap backward will be asked to turn it around, sir, please and thank you. A patron who pulls out a cellphone will never be seen again.

*****

The Masters: Embracing tradition, celebrating history, building legacies, and a throwback to a simpler, more respectful time in the game.

The Head Nut

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Golf Nuts,

I am so discouraged by what is happening in the game in so many ways, and this is yet another example. Here are a few more…

• LIV Golf League and the damage it has done to the game on several levels:
  • The Great Philosophical Divide in the Game
    • Tournament golf redefined as a party rather than a competition
  • Two separate tours featuring elite players
  • Money as the measure of greatness
  • The circus atmosphere at their events, complete with blaring music
  • 54-hole, limited field, shotgun start professional events as their standard
  • Entitlement to riches instead of earned value through hard work and golfing excellence
  • The intrusion of Saudi blood money and the Saudi culture into the game, with the very real possibility of the Saudis sitting at the head of the table of the PGA Tour
• The spectacular greed demonstrated at the highest levels of the professional game, including players, the Tour, networks, advertisers, sponsors, etc.
• The “new golfer” and his demand that the game bend to his will rather than embracing the game’s roots
• The horrible broadcast quality of televised golf (The Masters is the standard)
• Maximizing commercial revenue, as opposed to the actual broadcast, as the end game for broadcasters, ignoring the consumer entirely in their quest for increased revenue
• Golf management companies and their impersonal attitude toward their customers, and their maniacal focus on net revenue
• The equipment manufacturers and their unjustifiable defense of making the game “easier” rather than embracing the essential challenge of the game
• The ungodly distance the ball travels now, and the unerring “straightness” of the golf ball
• Tour professionals whining over a small reduction in the overall distance standard for fear they might have to actually hit a mid-iron to a par 4 hole instead of a wedge to a par 5
• The rampant cheating at all levels of the game, including improving one’s lie as mentioned above, anchoring, backstopping, and so much more to make the game as easy as possible
• S-L-O-W Play on Tour, and when we amateurs play the game
• A profound lack of etiquette by fellow golfers
• The stunningly obscene behavior by fans at Tour events:
  • Drunken parties
  • Fistfights
  • Party holes
  • Morons yelling “GET IN THE HOLE!!”
  • And a general disregard for the competitors

And, finally, speaking of competitors, garbage like this…

(The last image is a 10-second video.)

They are Tour professionals, and with such behavior are setting the standard for the “new golfer” knuckleheads who are degrading the game beyond repair.

This is not “their” game. It belongs to all of us, especially those who came before us who made it the greatest game of all. A game for everyone, provided you respect the game for its great history and wonderful traditions.

Golf changed me as a person. But today, the people who play golf are doing the opposite. They are changing the game, and not for the better.

It is now, along with so many other areas of life lately, a metaphor for the decline in our society, and I don’t see a positive end result for either our culture or for the game.

I welcome your thoughts, even if they disagree with my observations and conclusions. They are nothing more than my personal opinions, but they represent the lament of someone who dearly loves this game for all that it has done for and to me.

The Head Nut

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Read Geoff Shackelford’s fine analysis on his Substack, “The Quadrilateral” below…

Click Image above for The Quadrilateral, then scroll down to “Lieing” piece…

For the short version, click HERE to watch Golf Central’s analysis of the controversy.

The integrity of the game must be protected, and the above is a blatant example of the Tour officials looking the other way.

The Head Nut

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Why Did LIV Give Up Their Quest for Ranking Points?

Greg Norman and his chorus of defectors from the PGA and DP World Tours haven’t stopped whining about the loss of Official World Golf Rankings (OWGR) points since they defected from the tours and signed for millions of dollars with LIV Golf League; a tour that does not meet the criteria for receiving points. Instead of altering their format – the simplest and easiest strategy – they chose to complain, whine, and point fingers at OWGR and the major championships.

But suddenly, they reversed course and withdrew their application for OWGR ranking points.

Why Did They Give Up Their Quest for Ranking Points? Here’s a theory…

Clue #1 – Joaquin Niemann’s constant whining pays off and he gets special invitations from the Masters and PGA Championship after playing well in non-LIV events but still falling short of the OWGR Top 100.

Clue #2 – Norman submits a letter to his LIV players stating that he has withdrawn his OWGR application.

Club #3 – He leaks it to the media

Clue #4 – In this Sports Illustrated Golf piece, Alex Miceli wrote, “Near the end of Norman’s letter, he said that LIV continues to seek meaningful communication and relationships with each of the Majors to ensure that LIV golfers are adequately represented.”

Clue #5 – In this piece, the Irish Star announces that 20 of the top 21 LIV players have signed up to play in Asian Tour events in an attempt to secure ranking points, even though it is impossible for them to ever get enough ranking points to return to the Top 50 in the world.

So, What’s up? Simple…

Norman saw Niemann get the special invitation through solid performance outside of LIV, plus constant whining, and decided to employ a two-front “special invitation” strategy.

The first step of the strategy was to suggest to his LIV players to take the same route as Niemann and enter non-LIV events.

Then, armed with that information and with the precedent set by the Masters and PGA of America, go direct to the majors and request special invitations, larded up with plenty of whining and victimhood language thrown in for effect.

Armed with the successful Niemann strategy and the 20 LIV players playing in events on the Asian Tour, Norman is going directly to each of the majors and saying something like, “Look at our guys! They’re now playing nice in the sandbox by attempting to earn ranking points, but they’ll never get enough to return to their earlier rankings. Doesn’t the LIV Golf League deserve a special exemption category just like the OWGR Rankings? Make our Top 5 players exempt into your major.”

If that strategy fails, he will do the bidding of individual players, again using the Niemann strategy (i.e. divide and conquer) saying, “Well, how about Dustin Johnson (or any number of LIV players falling short)? Doesn’t he at least deserve a special invitation like Niemann?”

Greg Norman will never stop, and neither will PIF, until they are told categorically that they will never receive a special exemption category and that there will be no more special invitations for LIV players outside the OWGR Top 50 rankings.

LIV Golf League and the Saudi Arabian Investment Fund are a malevolent force in the game of golf, and are intent on “owning” the professional game, just as they are attempting to do in football (soccer) and other sports.

The Head Nut

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Golf Nuts, this is a Substack post by Gary Van Sickle about Superagent Hughes Norton’s upcoming blockbuster book. – HN

By Gary Van Sickle

In the upcoming book “Rainmaker,” the former IMG superagent to the likes of Tiger Woods and Greg Norman provides a riveting tell-all account of the game’s biggest players and deals

Believe it or not, Anthony Kim is not 2024’s Most Surprising Return From Exile. Not even close. Enter Hughes Norton, who has been on radio silence for 25 years. Surely you remember Norton, the man who put the “super” in superagent. Well, if you missed the 1980s and ‘90s, Norton worked for International Management Golf (IMG) and was the agent to golfing superstars such as Tiger Woods and Greg Norman. If there was a Golf Agents Hall of Fame, Norton and IMG founder Mark McCormack would be the most significant inductees.

About the surprise: Norton is back with a bang thanks to a new book, “Rainmaker,” co-written with former Golf magazine editor George Peper. It is a juicy, behind-the-curtains tell-all book about his life at the top of professional golf’s food chain. Be warned: Once you pick it up and start reading, Norton’s inside stories (from Greg Norman’s philandering to personally getting Earl Woods on IMG’s payroll while Tiger was an amateur to the surprising figure who may have initiated Norton’s eventual firing by Woods) make it impossible to put down.

Here’s Norton on Norman, for instance: “No client in my experience ever loved making money more than Greg. I sensed the dollars becoming Greg’s way to keep score particularly as his major championship performances kept falling short of expectations. Money validated him.” Norton scored a lot of such validation for his clients. The list of golfers he signed included Woods, Norman, Tom Watson (temporarily), Nancy Lopez, Curtis Strange, David Duval, Lanny Wadkins, Hal Sutton, Peter Jacobsen and Mark O’Meara. And that’s just for starters. Landing any one of those players would have been a career-maker for most agents. Norton landed all of them, which was why IMG upped his salary to $750,000 plus bonuses in 1997, he revealed in the book, a kingly sum then.

Golf’s two deals of the century were both landed by Norton on behalf of Woods. When Tiger turned pro and opted out of returning to Stanford University — even though he told everyone he was coming back up until the moment he wasn’t — he already had a stunning $40 million deal with Nike and a $20 million deal with Titleist that Norton had set up. Both deals included bonuses for winning majors, which Woods cashed in for many millions more. The figures in those deal were never-before-seen-in-golf-sized figures. Norton was a big player in golf.

Hence his nickname, “Huge,” which originally stemmed from Spaniard Seve Ballesteros’ pronunciation of his first name but later caught on among his co-workers and growing list of jealous enemies in IMG’s Cleveland-based office. So why is Norton finally breaking his long-held silence after all these years out of the business? He answers that on page one of his author’s note, explaining that there has never been a book about what it’s really like to be a sports agent and that movies such as “Jerry Maguire” and “Air” are Hollywood caricatures. “No book has captured the blocking and tackling behind the glitz and glamour of managing superstar athletes,” writes Norton, 75, who adds that he also wanted to help chronicle the legacy of sports’ most famous, “some would say infamous,” management firm, IMG.

Norton does a good job at letting us look inside his world. And he does it with enough honesty that we also see his faults, failures and embarrassing mistakes. “This is not a vanity book … nor is it an exercise in ‘woe is me’ self-pity,” Norton writes. “I’ve tried to keep the narrative real and balanced, have included things I’m proud to have accomplished but also things I’m not proud of.”

The big elephant in the book is why Norton was fired by Woods barely two years after closing the Nike and Titleist deals, and was later terminated by his mentor, McCormack (but with a $9 million buyout over 10 years that included a non-compete clause). Two things happened. One was a stunningly negative cover story in the now-defunct Golf World magazine about Hughes and how IMG wielded its power. Another was that O’Meara, whom Norton introduced to Tiger years earlier thinking he would be a good mentor for the burgeoning star (and he was), left IMG and then, Norton believes, persuaded Woods to leave, too. Woods rebuffed Norton’s request for an explanation of his sudden firing and sharply refused to discuss it. When Norton confronted O’Meara, “He denied it in a way that was not credible. Ten years later when I happened to see him again, the subject came up and he became extremely defensive in a way only a guilty man can. If that isn’t betrayal, I don’t know what is.”

Of course, money is how agents keep score so it was in character with the former superagent that he points out his $9 million in severance pay equates to $16.5 million today. It was a strange ending to the Woods-Norton pairing. Norton was the first agent to meet with Tiger and his parents when Woods was just 13, way before he appeared on the radar of other agents. Tiger was 5-feet-5-inches and weighed 100 pounds at their first meeting, Norton recalled. Upon visiting Woods’ bedroom, Norton was surprised to see no trophies. “He said, ‘By the time I hit 11, there were 113 of them and Mom made me give them all away. I don’t care.’”

Norton also heard the Earl Woods speech that Tiger’s father repeated many times for the media years later about how his son was going to change the world, not just the golf world. In an inspired moment, Norton got IMG to put Earl on a $25,000 retainer, plus expenses, as a junior golf talent scout after clearing it with the USGA, which approved the deal as long as no quid pro quo was involved. Later in the book, Norton recalled the best recognition he got from Tiger, who rarely commented on his help. “One day he said, ‘Hughesy, you and I make a great team. We’re both number one in the world at what we do.’”

Norton had breakups with the best. Norman was the game’s biggest gate attraction before Woods. Norton recalled how Norman began seeing a 22-year-old Australian model who lived in Hong Kong and asked to borrow Norton’s phone so he wouldn’t leave a phone bill paper trail. Norton regretted it because he was friends with Norman’s wife, Laura, and because Norman rang up thousands of dollars in phone charges “for which I would never be reimbursed,” Norton writes. It was the relationship with that same model that led to Norman’s high-profile marriage to tennis star Chris Evert later dissolving, too.

In 1993, Norman informed Norton and the head of IMG’s Australia office that he was leaving IMG. “Those words hit me like a cannonball,” Norton writes. “I was speechless. The guy who had been not only my number one client but my close friend for more than a decade — the guy for whom I’d produced $50 million of income — had just fired me.”

Norton noted in a later magazine interview that “even Joe Soap from down the street could have made me a lot of money” because he was “the hottest property in golf.” Now, Norton writes, Norman’s legacy is selling Wagyu beef and other vintners’ wines. Norton: “Norman saw himself as a brilliant businessman — still does, as evidenced by his LIV role — but there is little evidence to back that up.”

To highlight just how effective Norton was at his job, there is a look into the respective Rolex deals for Phil Mickelson and Woods. While Woods had Norton in his corner, Mickelson went with his college golf coach as his agent instead of IMG. “At the time, Phil’s Rolex deal was rumored to be $25,000 a year plus some free watches. Tiger got $200,000 his first year, plus another $645,000 in royalties from a Tiger Woods Signature Tudor watch, the first time Rolex paid a royalty to an athlete. Tiger’s only cost was one day per year of his time with Rolex.”

There’s plenty more in this book but the gist of it is, Norton has had more than two decades to reflect on his position in golf, a position at the top of the game, and how it affected his own life. His self-critical analysis makes it clear he isn’t making excuses for his choices, just trying to explain them as he saw them. And, yes, he has some regrets. “I absolutely loved my job,” he writes. “I was on top of the world, repping the hottest athletes on the planet and reveling in my role as rainmaker. My job had defined me. My workaholism had left me little time for introspection. I’d always thought of myself as humble, self-effacing, appreciative. But the evidence to the contrary was hard to deny … the realization that I had casual acquaintances but few friends, my inability to sustain a serious relationship … “The same monomaniacal focus that cost me my marriage had cost me my relationship with Tiger and ultimately my job at IMG.

I was bitter about betrayal by clients and colleagues but proud of what I had accomplished and at peace with it. In the years since, I have never said, ‘I wish I were back in the golf business.’ Not once.” “Rainmaker” will serve as his written legacy for Norton’s family and any other interested parties. In an epilogue, Norton examines where golf has gone since he departed — the PGA Tour’s FedEx Cup, oversized purses and, of course, the rival LIV Golf group. He has a warning. “Professional golf, if it isn’t careful, may well be a victim of its own greed,” he writes. Like IMG and Norton, in some ways. Or even Anthony Kim, whose importance never approached that of this Rainmaker.  

The Head Nut

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Ever Wonder How Tour Players Practice?

Let’s Ask Jonathan Yarwood…

“The answer is in the dirt.”

No, it’s not! It’s in well-structured and intelligent practice in small cells with measurable outcomes incorporating numerous practice styles.

I see so many players beating balls in a block practice style for hours like it’s a badge of honor. That’s a recipe for creating injury, fatigue and a delusion of competence as golf is the one sport you can practice in a totally different way and environment to how you actually play the game.

Here is a practice plan for today for the Tour Player I’m helping. Quality not quantity.

OK, now we all know how to become a Tour Player.

Thanks, Jonathan!

The Head Nut

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“I want to make it perfectly clear that if given the chance, I want to support the PGA Tour as well.”

Well, no kidding, Jon. You want it all. What a self-absorbed ass. You’ll fit in nicely at LIV.

The Head Nut

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Joel Beall, Golf Digest+

Undercover Tour Pro

I’m not a star—no major wins or magazine covers for me—but I am ranked inside the top 100 players in the world. The past couple of months I’ve talked to a ton of fellow rank-and-file about one of our tour’s biggest stars who left for LIV Golf: Jon Rahm.

PGA Tour players have never really had personal issues with any of the guys who left (except for the ones who, you know, tried to sue the tour out of existence). Plus, the PGA Tour normalized doing business with LIV’s financial backer, Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund, when it agreed to the framework agreement last summer. From afar, you might think Rahm’s defection to LIV was better received by his peers than past jumpers. The truth is, not really. The reason most guys are pissed has to do with our selfishness. Tour pros are like most fans in that we want this drama to end. A lot of us think Rahm’s departure will prolong this schism, and now that the tour has its private-equity investment in place with Strategic Sports Group, both sides feel like they have the upper hand. Having all this drag into another summer is something we didn’t want, and if it continues, Rahm, rightfully or not, will receive blame.

Rahm broke an unwritten code. Both sides had a hands-off approach to recruiting during the period when negotiations were being banged out and—maybe this is me being naive—it seemed like everyone understood that. It’s like Jon (or Jon’s team) thought they were above the detente. As the best player in the world, Jon could maybe claim he shouldn’t be lumped in with us. But, man, if there was one upshot from the past half year, it was this feeling of tour players coming together for a common cause. When a guy breaks from the pack to actively hurt that cause, that burns.



We also don’t buy this notion that Jon thought his defection could ultimately be what brings the golf world together, like he’s a human olive branch. Please. He is not what got the SSG deal to the finish line, or what will bring PIF and the tour together. Jon did this because he got half a billion dollars. Full stop.

Jon clearly fell for whatever Phil Mickelson was selling him. As Phil admitted recently, he’s a divisive figure now (and I think that’s putting it nicely). Phil and Jon can say all they want about how Phil didn’t influence Jon’s decision. I’m telling you, from a player’s perspective, we don’t believe that one bit. Jon looks at Phil not as a friend but as a family member, and it’s no secret they are represented by the same agency. On that front, it’s disappointing that Jon couldn’t see through the charade.

That all said, one thing that really doesn’t matter to guys in the locker room is Jon going back on his word. Don’t get me wrong, we heard what you heard, how Jon always said he had no interest in going to LIV, that he didn’t really care about more money, and that he hated the format. But looking like a flip-flopper—or let’s be real, a fibber—is more of a Jon problem than any problem we have with him. Why? Because it’s nothing new. What LIV players haven’t said one thing and then done the other? We’re so used to it that we don’t think twice about it anymore.

I’ve seen Jon do a lot of good. He’ll donate time to guys who are struggling and need help with their games, both on tour and at home in Scottsdale. He’s also a professional, not one of these grab-ass, frat bros the tour occasionally churns out. But Jon hurt a lot of us by what he did, and even if the tour is in a slightly better shape post-SSG deal, that hurt towards Jon remains. I do hope this fight between the tour and LIV ends soon, and if Jon comes back, I’ll still treat him with respect. But pros aren’t good at forgetting, and Jon’s defection is something we’ll remember.

*****

LIV players are delusional to think their former PGA Tour peers are going to welcome them back with open arms. But that, unbelievably, is Jon Rahm’s wish. So, Jon, $300M isn’t enough? You want it all, with no consequences.

The absolute pinnacle of selfishness.

The Head Nut

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Click image or here for story…

The Head Nut

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