Bryson’s Offseason Gamble Could Reshape His 2025 Campaign—And Maybe LIV’s Narrative
I’ve been covering professional golf since before Bryson DeChambeau was even thinking about the game, and I can tell you this much: when a player—especially one as calculated and data-driven as DeChambeau—starts talking about feeling “different,” you pay attention. Not the nervous kind of different. The good kind.
DeChambeau’s comments coming out of Adelaide this week aren’t the desperate rhetoric of a guy clawing for relevance. They’re the measured reflections of someone who genuinely believes he’s cracked a code that eluded him throughout 2024. And based on 35 years of watching this tour, I think he might be onto something significant.
Timing as Strategy
Here’s what struck me most about Bryson’s explanation of his offseason approach: he didn’t just work harder. He worked smarter by changing when he worked. That distinction matters more than casual fans realize.
“I started earlier this year. I started November speed training, so I got that kind of out of my system. Last year, I was prepping and doing some speed training in January. It delayed my speed until the middle of the year and cost me a couple months, so I changed that this year.”
Most players treat January speed work as a matter of course—something you do because that’s when everyone does it. DeChambeau looked at his 2024 calendar, saw where his form peaked and dipped, and made a surgical adjustment. He lost months of his season to a training timeline that didn’t sync with his peak competitive window. Now, in early 2025, he’s already reporting that his clubhead speed is where it needs to be.
Having worked with players like Tom Lehman back in the day, I learned that small timing adjustments in preparation often yield disproportionate results when the competition begins. Bryson’s early November start gave him three extra months to dial in his speed before Adelaide. That’s not marginal; that’s a legitimate competitive advantage.
The Sportsbox AI Factor—And What It Signals
I’ll be honest: I watched AI golf training tools arrive with skepticism. New technology in golf often promises more than it delivers. But DeChambeau’s integration of Sportsbox AI into his offseason routine, combined with his coach Dana (I assume Dana Dahlquist, his longtime swing coach), represents something I haven’t seen quite this deliberately executed before.
“I think it just comes from practicing a little earlier and getting with my coach Dana, and working hard with Sportsbox a lot. It’s been fun working with Sportsbox. We’re about to unveil something pretty special with AI, so I’m pumped about it. It’ll be incredibly helpful in dire times of need to be even more specific than pretty much any coach out there.”
What this tells me is that Bryson isn’t just using a tool—he’s deeply invested in the company and, more importantly, he’s helping develop solutions that might not exist yet. That level of partnership usually means access to data and refinements that other players simply don’t have. When he mentions “dire times of need,” he’s talking about moments when most players would scramble and hope. Instead, he’ll have granular biomechanical feedback to make micro-adjustments.
In my three decades covering the tour, I’ve seen players with every advantage in the world still struggle because they lacked the right feedback loop. Bryson’s combining early timing, trusted coaching, and proprietary AI analysis. That’s not luck. That’s systematic advantage-building.
The Iron Play Gap—And the Mysterious Solution
Here’s where things get interesting, and where I think casual observers might miss the narrative. DeChambeau admits his iron play is lagging. He’s currently “almost too fast” with his driver and fairway woods, but his approach game hasn’t caught up. Most players would view this as a weakness. Bryson views it as a puzzle with a deadline.
“I’ve got something coming that I can’t wait to have. Hopefully I’ll have it for Hong Kong and that three-week stint, and it’ll be something that greatly improves my iron play and wedges.”
Notice the specificity: Hong Kong and that three-week stretch. That’s not vague optimism. That’s a player who knows exactly when the major championship stretch begins and has apparently engineered a solution with a specific timeline. Whether that’s new equipment, a swing change, or something else entirely, he’s given himself a window to integrate it before the season truly matters.
I’ve seen players talk about mysterious improvements before, and usually it’s noise. But DeChambeau’s track record with equipment innovations—the single-length irons, the extreme speed work, the analytical approach—suggests he’s not bluffing.
Adelaide and the 72-Hole Question
One final observation worth noting: DeChambeau’s been publicly critical of LIV Golf’s shift from 54 to 72 holes, yet he’s currently relieved that extra round exists because it gives him room to separate from Jon Rahm rather than face a playoff. That’s pragmatism meeting circumstance.
But here’s what I think matters beneath that: Bryson playing at this level opposite Rahm, with major season momentum building, suggests LIV might finally be creating the competitive theater that justifies its format changes. Whether you love or criticize the Saudi-backed league, watching two of the game’s best talents square off over 72 holes with ranking points on the line is precisely what competitive golf should look like.
DeChambeau felt different coming into Adelaide. After watching him navigate 35 years of this tour, different—when he says it with this kind of specificity and data backing—usually means significant.
