In one sense, it is difficult to detect anything warm and cuddly in all of this. Elite golfers, who were already obscenely rich, take the bounty on offer from a Saudi Arabian-backed disruption model before shuffling back whence they came – essentially for a trivial penalty – when the novelty wears off. This is hardly sport at its purest. Instead, an admission by Brooks Koepka and Patrick Reed that they blundered in believing the fairways were greener on the LIV side. The PGA Tour, desperate to portray itself as the big boy in the playground, welcomes one-time pariahs back with open arms. Other golfers who spurned LIV’s fluttering eyelashes scratch their heads, wondering why they bothered.
There is, however, an underlying and endearing point. All the petroleum pounds in the world are no substitute for legacy. Trying to match the achievements of Arnold Palmer, Tiger Woods and Rory McIlroy carries significance. LIV golf has no relevance beyond its own domain. Saudi Arabia has made inroads into various sports but, in golf, the kingdom is unquestionably doomed. LIV is on the road towards oblivion, far earlier than most had anticipated. Only those who will gain financially from its continuation can try to spin an alternative story.
Executives at the PGA Tour, who feared for their business when LIV blasted on to the scene, are besides themselves with excitement. No wonder; for years they were berated about their approach to all things LIV. Koepka and Reed may be unlikely revolutionaries but have now lit the touchpaper on LIV’s demise. This circuit, which observers reckon might have burned through $6bn (£4.35bn) since its establishment in 2022, will fail with its objective of seriously rivalling the PGA or DP World Tours.
Scott O’Neil, the LIV chief executive, is very fond of telling those under his watch that the tour is not all about the money. Perhaps O’Neil works for free. In fact, LIV is not even about the money, as Koepka and Reed have demonstrated. Astonishingly (not really) a team contest between the RangeGoats and the HyFlyers carries no broader relevance whatsoever. Sportspeople like money; the sensible of them like status much more.
The most intriguing element now is how and when Saudi Arabia backs out of its LIV experiment. There has to be an element of face saving, just as there must be realism. How do they accept defeat gracefully? Any exit strategy will come from people who hate the notion of their money being wasted or that they have not been taken seriously enough. For Yasir al-Rumayyan, the head of the Saudi Public Investment Fund, LIV has been an intensely personal project from the outset. At Newcastle there is Champions League football. Cristiano Ronaldo continues to bring eyeballs to the Saudi Pro League. Boxing and Formula One operate at the top level in the kingdom. Golf is the one sporting entity Saudi Arabia will ultimately not crack. This is a blow to Rumayyan’s reputation.
The Saudis could offer Bryson DeChambeau $500m, $600m or $700m to remain as the poster boy of this tour, just as a degenerate gambler would chase losses in vain. It is not in the interests of DeChambeau – or Jon Rahm, or Cameron Smith – to remain in a world which is so lacking in competitive depth. LIV signed these golfers as major champions. Before this season, they picked up Thomas Detry, Victor Perez, Elvis Smylie and Michael La Sasso. LIV could rumble on in the background as a third-rate operation but that would seem to contradict everything the Saudis want to stand for. Why bother subsidising low-grade golf professionals? A more salient move would be trying to formalise a long-rumoured alliance with the DP World Tour, thereby retaining at least some foothold in the sport. Yet with the PGA Tour underwriting prize pots in Europe, the DP World Tour will be careful as to whose tune it chooses to dance.
The prospect of Saudi Arabia abruptly halting its LIV cashflow cannot be ruled out. Wider market forces are relevant. The Financial Times reported in recent days that Saudi Arabia has scaled back its flagship, futuristic Neom project amid spiralling costs and delays. “We need to reprioritise,” said an official. One wonders how that squares with bestowing $10m on the Cleeks for finishing top of the pile at LIV Virginia. Golf insiders struggle to apportion an asset value to LIV, given its astronomical rate of cash outflow.
None of this is to decry completely what LIV has done. The PGA Tour – previously complacent and comfortable – needed the shake-up created by competition. It would be wrong to suggest LIV events are vastly inferior to those on other tours. For ageing golfers – Lee Westwood, Henrik Stenson and Ian Poulter among them – this was the ultimate payday. LIV brought Anthony Kim back from years in the wilderness. It has also provided a decent playing platform for those who simply do not enjoy PGA Tour life.
The party is coming to an end, abruptly or otherwise. It is one that will be defined by prodigality. In golf, it is not merely jargon to suggest following in the footsteps of giants is important.
