I’ve been around professional golf long enough to know when something fundamental is shifting. This week’s seemingly unrelated developments—TGL’s Tiger-less debut, the LPGA’s operational fumble at Lake Nona, and LIV’s limited world ranking breakthrough—aren’t isolated incidents. They’re symptoms of a sport grappling with an identity crisis that threatens its traditional power structures.
Let me start with what struck me most about Jupiter Links’ upset over Atlanta Drive in TGL: it happened without Tiger Woods, and nobody seemed to care. That should terrify the PGA Tour brass. When I caddied for Tom Lehman in the late ’90s, Tiger’s presence could single-handedly double television ratings and gallery sizes. Now, we’re watching a made-for-TV golf league generate buzz while he sits on the sidelines with a back issue. The fact that Jupiter Links could end a year-long losing streak without their marquee player suggests TGL might have legs independent of Tiger’s star power—something the PGA Tour has never managed to achieve.
This matters because it exposes how dependent traditional golf has become on individual personalities rather than institutional strength. In my experience covering 15 Masters, the tournament succeeds because Augusta National built something bigger than any single player. TGL, ironically, might be accidentally doing the same thing.
Meanwhile, LPGA Commissioner Craig Kessler’s mea culpa about the weather-shortened season opener at Lake Nona reveals a more troubling trend: golf’s governing bodies are increasingly unprepared for basic operational challenges. I’ve covered countless weather delays over three decades, and there are established protocols that work. The LPGA’s fumble wasn’t about Mother Nature—it was about institutional competence.
What Kessler’s admission really tells us is that the LPGA, like many golf organizations, is stretched too thin trying to compete in an increasingly fragmented marketplace. When you’re fighting for attention against LIV’s Saudi billions and the PGA Tour’s elevated events, basic tournament management can slip through the cracks. That’s dangerous territory for a tour already struggling with visibility and sponsorship compared to its male counterparts.
But the week’s most significant development was LIV Golf finally receiving world ranking points, even in limited fashion. Having covered the initial LIV defections and the subsequent legal battles, I can tell you this represents a seismic shift that most casual fans don’t fully grasp.
The Official World Golf Ranking’s decision to award points only to LIV’s top 10 finishers is a political compromise that satisfies nobody while acknowledging reality: LIV isn’t going anywhere. More importantly, it legitimizes LIV as a professional tour, something the PGA Tour fought tooth and nail to prevent.
I think this limited recognition is actually more dangerous for the PGA Tour than full recognition would have been. It creates a two-tiered system within LIV that could drive internal competition while still allowing their top players to maintain world ranking relevance. Players like Dustin Johnson and Brooks Koepka can now point to ranking points as justification for their Saudi paychecks, while mid-tier LIV players face additional pressure to crack that top 10.
What strikes me about all three developments is how they reflect golf’s struggle to modernize without losing its soul. TGL represents innovation at the expense of tradition. LIV represents global expansion at the expense of established hierarchy. The LPGA’s struggles represent the challenge of maintaining standards while fighting for resources.
In my three decades covering this sport, I’ve watched golf evolve from a gentleman’s game to a global entertainment product. But this feels different. The various factions aren’t just competing for market share—they’re offering fundamentally different visions of what professional golf should be.
The PGA Tour’s response to these challenges has been reactive rather than visionary. Elevated events, increased purses, and player equity deals are financial band-aids on a structural problem. When your primary selling point becomes “we’re not LIV,” you’ve already lost the narrative battle.
What concerns me most is how these growing pains affect the game’s credibility with casual fans. When the LPGA can’t properly manage weather delays, when world rankings become political footballs, and when new leagues succeed despite—or because of—their rejection of traditional values, golf risks becoming a niche sport for hardcore enthusiasts rather than mainstream entertainment.
The irony is that the quality of professional golf has never been higher. Today’s players are stronger, more athletic, and more skilled than the legends I covered early in my career. But institutional chaos threatens to overshadow on-course excellence.
Golf’s various power brokers need to recognize that their credibility depends on competent execution of basic responsibilities—whether that’s managing weather delays, maintaining fair ranking systems, or creating compelling television products. Innovation is important, but not at the expense of institutional integrity.
The sport I’ve covered for 35 years is at a crossroads. The choices made in the next few years will determine whether professional golf emerges stronger from this fragmentation or continues splintering into increasingly irrelevant factions. Based on this week’s evidence, I’m not optimistic about the decision-making process.
