McIlroy Gets It Right: Why The Players Doesn’t Need a Crown It Already Wears
I’ve spent 35 years around professional golf, caddied for some of the game’s best, and covered enough majors to know when somebody’s talking sense versus when they’re chasing ghosts. Rory McIlroy’s comments this week at Pebble Beach about The Players Championship hit me as refreshingly honest in an era when everybody’s either selling something or settling a score.
Let me be direct: He’s right, and the PGA Tour’s marketing department should probably take notes.
The “Major” Question That Won’t Go Away
The Players Championship has been the subject of an identity crisis that’s purely self-inflicted. For 51 years, this event has been the crown jewel of the regular tour season—won by legends, feared by competitors, and coveted by every professional golfer who isn’t eligible for a major. It doesn’t need the asterisk of “fifth major” to matter. In fact, that label diminishes what makes it special.
What struck me most about McIlroy’s take is his historical perspective. He didn’t dismiss the tournament or get defensive. Instead, he acknowledged its legitimacy while defending tradition:
“I think the Players is one of the best golf tournaments in the world. I don’t think anyone disputes that or argues that. I think from a player perspective, it’s amazing. I think from an on-site fan experience, it’s amazing. It’s an amazing golf course, location [and] venue.”
That’s not a backhanded compliment. That’s a player who understands that greatness doesn’t require rebranding.
The Marketing Misstep and Phil’s Reality Check
Here’s where the story gets interesting—and where the tour stumbled. The PGA Tour’s decision to launch a promotional trailer with the tagline “March is going to be major” created exactly the kind of overreach that invites pushback. And who better to deliver that pushback than Phil Mickelson, a two-time Players champion who’s now with LIV Golf and has absolutely nothing to lose?
Mickelson posted on X: “I’ve won it. It’s not.”
Look, I understand where Phil’s coming from, even if his current situation colors the argument. He’s making a valid point about field strength—and he’s right that LIV’s absence weakens any claim about depth. When you can’t include some of the world’s best players, you can’t claim to have the “deepest field” with a straight face. That’s just math.
McIlroy conceded this elegantly:
“I’m still very proud to have won that tournament twice, as I’m sure all the other champions are. It stands on its own without the label, I guess.”
The Players doesn’t need the label. It never did.
What Makes The Players Actually Special
In my experience, the tournaments that matter most are the ones players fear most. I’ve watched competitors prepare for The Players with an intensity that rivals major championship prep. The course is brutally difficult. The field historically has been stacked with tour regulars playing for pride and points. And the winner gets automatic qualification into the Masters—which is the real currency on tour.
That last point matters more than any label ever could. Winning The Players gets you into Augusta. Full stop. That’s leverage. That’s legitimacy.
What I find encouraging is that Scottie Scheffler remains the only back-to-back champion in the event’s history, winning in 2023 and 2024. That tells you something about the difficulty of this tournament in the modern era. You’re not seeing repeat champions the way you might at some tour events. The Players demands excellence at peak performance, year after year.
The Bigger Picture: Women’s Golf and Double Standards
McIlroy’s reference to women’s golf felt pointed, and not in a dismissive way. He noted that the LPGA Tour runs with five majors annually—the Chevron Championship, U.S. Women’s Open, Women’s PGA Championship, Amundi Evian Championship, and the Women’s Open—and suggested that the men’s game should stick with tradition.
Having covered the women’s game alongside the PGA Tour for decades, I’d offer a different take: the LPGA’s five majors work because they’ve built equity in those championships over time. They’re not trying to arbitrarily elevate one event to match another tour’s structure. They built their own system, and it functions within their ecosystem.
The question for the PGA Tour isn’t whether five majors are better than four. It’s whether the tour is confident enough in what it already has.
The PGA Championship Question
McIlroy also made an interesting point about the PGA Championship itself. He believes it should move back to August, when it was historically “glory’s last shot” each season, rather than its current May slot as the season’s second major. That’s worth examining separately, but it speaks to a larger truth: tour scheduling and championship sequencing matter more than we typically discuss.
The real issue isn’t whether The Players should be called a major. The real issue is whether the tour understands what makes tournaments meaningful in the first place.
Moving Forward
McIlroy’s willingness to defend tradition while simultaneously celebrating The Players’ quality shows a player thinking clearly about what serves the game. The tour would be wise to step back from the marketing overreach and let The Players be what it’s always been: the hardest, most prestigious non-major tournament in professional golf.
That’s not a consolation prize. That’s a crown all its own.

