The Broomstick Problem Golf Refuses to Solve

Why Akshay Bhatia’s Putting Stroke Has Become a Referendum on the Rules Themselves

I’ve been watching professional golfers swing clubs for 35 years. I’ve walked inside the ropes at fifteen Masters Tournaments. I’ve carried a bag for Tom Lehman and seen firsthand how the game’s most talented players navigate impossible pressure. So when I tell you that the current debate over Akshay Bhatia’s putting method represents something far bigger than one 24-year-old’s technique, I’m not exaggerating.

What happened at the Arnold Palmer Invitational last week wasn’t really about whether Bhatia was anchoring his putter. The real issue is far more troubling: we have a rulebook that’s created so much ambiguity that millions of fans legitimately can’t tell if a player is cheating—and that’s not the player’s problem to solve.

The Technique in Question

For those just tuning in, Bhatia won the API using a 50-inch broomstick putter with what I’d describe as a hover-anchor technique. He holds the club so close to his chest that the gap is nearly imperceptible to the naked eye. Anchoring—pressing the putter into your body—was outlawed in 2016. But Bhatia isn’t quite doing that. He’s hovering. There’s technically space there. Technically.

The social media response was predictable. Accusations flew. The integrity of professional golf was questioned by people filming on their phones while sitting on their couches. And Bhatia, to his credit, pushed back: "Not anchoring. Literally 2 inches short of my chest haha."

But here’s where I lose patience with both the skeptics and the officials: if fans need to measure with forensic precision to determine whether something is legal, we have a rules problem, not a player problem.

What the Data Actually Shows

Before getting too philosophical, let’s talk about what Bhatia has actually accomplished. In the 2022-23 season, he ranked 183rd in Strokes Gained: Putting. Last season and this year, he’s been consistently in the top 40. Currently, he’s sitting 12th. That’s not a marginal improvement. That’s a transformation.

At Bay Hill, his combined strokes gained on and around the greens—16.3—was the best performance by any Tour winner in the ShotLink era, which stretches back to 1983. Think about that for a moment. Better than every winning effort in forty years of data.

Is it possible to make that kind of statistical leap through better equipment and technique? Absolutely. I’ve seen it before. But I’ve also seen it before in ways that made traditionalists deeply uncomfortable.

The Jordan Spieth Dodge

When Kay Adams pressed Jordan Spieth on the question during an interview at the Players Championship, you could practically watch his brain calculating the safest possible response. Spieth sits on the Tour’s Player Advisory Council, which made his careful word choice especially revealing.

"There’s a skill to it," Spieth said. "If it were that easy to do and made everyone that much better, everybody would do it."

That’s technically true, but it’s also a dodge. And I don’t blame him. What was he supposed to say? That he thinks long putters are unfair? That would alienate a growing number of Tour players using them. That he’s concerned about the optics? That invites Tour officials to ask why he hasn’t escalated the issue internally.

What strikes me about Spieth’s response is what he didn’t say. He didn’t enthusiastically endorse Bhatia’s method. He didn’t say "this is completely normal." He offered measured support wrapped in hedging language. That tells me plenty of players have concerns but aren’t willing to go on record.

Spieth did note his personal preference: "I would like the putter to be the shortest club in your bag, because it is the shortest club in my bag, and I do believe that it forces more skill."

The Bigger Picture

Here’s what I think is actually happening, and I don’t say this lightly after three and a half decades covering this tour: we’re watching a generational divide on equipment ethics play out in real time.

Adam Scott and Bernhard Langer pioneered long putters at the highest levels. They faced skepticism too, but they were established stars who’d won multiple majors before switching. That context mattered. There was an intuitive logic: great players trying something different later in their careers.

Bhatia is different. He’s young, he’s ascending, and he made the switch specifically to improve his most glaring weakness. When improvement is that dramatic and that sudden, cynicism is the natural human response. Add a technique that exists in a gray area of the rulebook, and you’ve got the perfect storm.

The Real Culprit

But let’s be clear about who bears responsibility here. It’s not Bhatia. It’s not even the skeptics on social media. It’s the governing bodies—the R&A and the USGA—who were asked to clarify the anchoring rule after they banned it, and they punted.

The rule states you can’t press the club into your body. Fine. But how close is too close? What’s the precise measurement? What about hovering with the club stationary relative to your torso while you swing? These aren’t rhetorical questions. They’re basic rule-writing 101.

When rulesmakers leave gaps this obvious, they’re essentially inviting exactly this kind of scrutiny. It’s unfair to players who are technically compliant but perceived as pushing boundaries, and it’s unfair to fans who can’t confidently determine what’s legal.

What Needs to Happen

I’m not here to take a hard stance on whether long putters should be permitted at all. Reasonable people disagree on that question. But what’s not reasonable is maintaining a rulebook that requires frame-by-frame analysis to determine compliance.

The governing bodies should either clarify the hovering gray area with precision, or they should reconsider whether broomsticks belong in professional golf at all. Ambiguity solves nothing. It just lets everyone be unhappy—the players using them, the players competing against them, and the fans watching it all unfold.

Bhatia has earned his success through talent and hard work. But the fact that millions of people questioning his integrity speaks more about our rules than his character. That’s a conversation golf needs to have.