As the Equipment Editor for The Daily Duffer, my inbox exploded last week after Anthony Kim’s LIV Adelaide win. Everyone was buzzing about the “greatest comeback ever.” Now, I love a good story as much as the next guy, and Kim’s return to the winner’s circle is undeniably compelling. But as a guy who spends his days knee-deep in launch monitor data, dissecting clubhead speeds, spin rates, and smash factors, I have to inject a dose of reality into the narrative.
The recent article, “The 5 Best Comeback Stories In Golf History,” put Kim’s triumph squarely at number four. And while it’s an incredible human interest story, from a pure performance perspective, I’m with the article’s initial skepticism:
“Many observers were calling Kim’s story the greatest golf has ever seen. That is a bit obtuse—Kim’s story, while incredible, doesn’t rise to what a couple of others on this list returned from.”
From an equipment standpoint, what Kim has achieved is remarkable given his decade-long absence from competitive golf. We’re talking about a golfer who, by his own admission and visual evidence, was out of shape, potentially battling personal demons, and certainly not maintaining the rigorous fitness and practice routines of a top-tier professional. When he initially returned to LIV, the launch monitor numbers I saw from various sources painted a picture of a player struggling for form:
“It seemed as if he didn’t have much gas left in the tank. Kim was finishing dead last in tournaments and lost his spot on LIV after two years, only to gain it back through qualifying.”
This tells you something. Finishing dead last isn’t just about putting poorly; it’s often a tell-tale sign of inconsistent ball striking, diminished swing speed, and a lack of control over key metrics like launch angle and spin. In my fitting bay, I see players like this all the time – golfers who *want* to be competitive but whose numbers simply don’t support it yet. AK’s initial return reflected someone who needed significant work to even contend.
The win at LIV Adelaide, however, is a different beast. To come from five strokes back against players like Jon Rahm and Bryson DeChambeau, two of the most technically astute and physically dominant players in the game today, speaks volumes about a resurgence in his game. I’m keen to see the detailed ShotLink data from that event. I’d be looking for a significant uptick in his driving accuracy, consistent ball speeds in the mid-170s mph range (which is elite), and control over his iron’s dispersion. Was he generating optimal launch and spin with his woods and irons to hold greens effectively? That’s the technical performance behind a win, not just sheer grit.
Compare this to the likes of Ben Hogan, who, after a head-on collision that nearly took his life, returned to win 5 more majors. Or Babe Zaharias, who won the U.S. Women’s Open *after cancer surgery* in the 1950s, wearing a colostomy bag. These weren’t just about getting back on the course; these were about redefining what was physically possible after catastrophic events. Hogan’s ability to generate the clubhead speed and maintain the precision required for major championship golf with a body doctors said might never walk again is an engineering marvel in itself, irrespective of the equipment.
“Keep in mind that we’re talking about 1950s surgery. There was no guarantee of even surviving such an operation.”
That quote perfectly encapsulates the sheer adversity these legends faced. They didn’t have the same rehabilitation science, state-of-the-art pain management, or even understanding of biomechanics that modern golfers benefit from. Hogan had to compensate for permanent physical damage with an almost superhuman dedication and an incredible feel for the club. Zaharias showed a mental fortitude that simply blows away anything we’ve seen in recent times.
Even Tiger’s 2019 Masters win, while emotionally charged and undeniably historic, came after multiple back surgeries and years of struggles. But Tiger, even at his lowest, was still a physical specimen dedicated to his craft, albeit one battling persistent pain. His comeback was about finding a repeatable swing that his body could handle, paired with an unrivaled short game and clutch putting. The data from his winning week showed an incredible control over his ball flight and trajectory, allowing him to navigate Augusta’s challenging greens. He wasn’t pushing his equipment to its absolute limits for raw distance, but rather finding precision.
So, while I tip my cap to Anthony Kim and every golfer on that list for their remarkable resilience, let’s keep things in perspective. Kim’s resurgence is a fantastic story for the sport, demonstrating that talent, even dormant talent, can reignite. But to rank it above overcoming literal death sentences, or competing at the highest level after surgeons *fused your hands around a golf club* like Skip Alexander, is to diminish the truly extraordinary. The technology we use today certainly aids in recovery and performance optimization, but some feats are simply beyond the realm of equipment, a testament to the human spirit that even the most advanced launch monitor can’t quantify.
Ultimately, all these stories serve as a powerful reminder that the mental game and physical endurance are just as, if not more, critical than the equipment in the bag. While I can dial in your spin rates and optimize your launch, the will to overcome adversity? That’s something no club fitter can provide.
