Time for LIV, golf’s Saudi-funded rebel tour, to drift into obscurity
Summary
- As a golfing experiment it has failed
For three years, much that has happened on the fairways and greens of men’s professional golf has been ignored. Scottie Scheffler, an American golfer, has won seven events on America’s PGA Tour so far this year, including the Masters, and pocketed an Olympic gold medal. The last golfer to be so dominant was Tiger Woods, but Mr Scheffler’s feats have attracted much less attention. Similarly, the LIV tour—funded by Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund (PIF) as part of the country’s efforts to improve its reputation—recently concluded its third season with a widely overlooked, Ryder Cup-style team event. LIV’s 13 teams were seemingly named by marketing folk experiencing a sugar rush, so it was Ripper that eventually edged out 4Aces and Iron Heads. Only 150,000 Americans watched on television.
Golf’s most watchable contest of late has been away from the course: the boardroom tussle between the executives from the two tours. After a period of enmity, they announced in mid-2023 that their organisations would join up. But since then, nothing. In the vacuum, the sport is suffering.
LIV’s most consequential impact has been to make an already very wealthy set of sportsmen even richer. The 58 LIV golfers shared more than $310m in prize money this year. In response the PGA Tour raised its prize pot to more than $400m. Add in some eight- or nine-figure signing-on fees for LIV players, and it’s clear that golf has recently directed an extraordinary amount of money to a small group of men. What has been great for the players’ bank balances, though, has been rather less good for their followers. Fans used to follow one tour—perhaps two, if they enjoyed the PGA-affiliated European tour—with a deep talent pool. Now they are offered three shallower ones.
Several obstacles could impede the bringing together of the PGA and LIV tours. The first is principle—or pride, if you prefer. Some on the PGA Tour are reportedly, and understandably, put out by the fact that a unified competition would in effect punish them for their loyalty. For example, Rory McIlroy, a Northern Irish star, has been among the staunchest allies of the PGA Tour. An amalgamated fixture list would pit him against Jon Rahm, a Spaniard who pocketed $300m for moving to LIV a year ago. That is a lot for Mr McIlroy to swallow.
There are also logistical questions. Some in the LIV camp, such as Brooks Koepka and Bryson DeChambeau, two American winners of several majors, would be welcomed back by the PGA. But the LIV roster is padded out with journeymen and those on the wane. Some sort of tiered re-entry system would be needed, with those at the bottom of LIV’s rankings potentially having to qualify to rejoin the PGA Tour. (Some, fattened by the LIV years, may decide not to bother, which would make the merger a little easier.) And because teams are LIV’s main point of difference from the PGA Tour, the Rippers and the Iron Heads may also have to be squeezed, somehow, into a future calendar.
The most serious problems are legal. This part is bleakly ironic. After LIV and some of its defectors sued the PGA Tour, alleging that it was breaking antitrust laws by preventing LIV golfers from playing in its events, America’s Department of Justice started an investigation. The PGA also launched a countersuit. When the tours signed a framework deal in mid-2023, one of its few points of agreement was that both sides would drop their legal cases. The DoJ is now concerned, though, that the unification deal might create a monopoly. The threat of the deal being thrown out means that the PGA Tour has an interest in keeping LIV alive, if only in a weakened state.
The walls that were erected to keep the two sets of players apart are already coming down. The PGA of America (a different but related body), which is responsible for the American end of the Ryder Cup, has announced that LIV defectors will be eligible to play in the match against Europe next year. So the most likely route forwards would see the PGA Tour allowing the best LIV players back in. Lesser lights could try to qualify or simply continue with LIV.
LIV could thus become to the PGA what Major League Soccer in America has long been to the leading European football leagues: a well-remunerated and less intense competition that offers a comfy stop on the way to retirement. Yasir al-Rumayyan, head of the PIF, and a couple of colleagues would get seats on the board of the entity that runs the new combined tour competition. The PGA Tour would continue to run the show. And maybe the actual golf would start to matter once more.
© 2024, The Economist Newspaper Ltd. All rights reserved. From The Economist, published under licence. The original content can be found on www.economist.com
