KIAWAH ISLAND, SOUTH CAROLINA | Given the spectacular beauty of the Ocean Course and its surroundings, where the sea oats and palmetto palms frame a golf course that sits alongside the Atlantic, a question still hangs in the salty air.
What’s wrong with this picture?
The answer is nothing, aside from the occasional double bogey or bad bounce.
Absolutely nothing.
This PGA Championship is the perfect rebuttal to the slow-to-die notion of a so-called Super Golf League, the proposed money grab that has been teasing players and managers with big money promises for several years but so far has been all talk and no commitments.
It’s time to move on. That doesn’t mean it will happen, only that it’s time.
There was another meeting of the principals and some player managers here this week that, according to two people in the meeting, may have pushed the insurgent group closer to capitulation.
“Unimpressive,” one manager said.
It’s time to move on. That doesn’t mean it will happen, only that it’s time.
No matter how much money this would-be golf league might promise it can’t deliver what the PGA Championship, the other majors and the PGA Tour offer.
History. Relevance. Soul.
Weeks like this one matter beyond money. Weeks like this are why Justin Rose, Rickie Fowler and Jon Rahm chased a professional golf career. Weeks like this are the ones we remember and tell stories about.
Rory McIlroy winning by eight here in 2012. Sergio García scissor-kicking his way from behind a tree while chasing Tiger Woods at the 1999 PGA Championship. Bob May’s moment in 2000.
Money can’t buy those things. It can buy bigger houses, private jets and long-term security but those are available to the top players now. It can’t buy back what players are likely to lose in the public realm if they ultimately choose Saudi money over what they have now.
There are costs associated with jumping ship. Being part of the Ryder Cup goes away. Playing in the PGA Championship goes away. The other majors will likely follow suit and the PGA Tour has already made clear players will lose their membership if they opt out.
That doesn’t mean the professional game can’t be better. There are several planets in different orbits and finding a harmonic convergence among them is sometimes problematic. Still, it works.
A little disruption rarely hurts. This has produced the $40 million Player Impact Program, tournament purses are on the rise and there are likely to be other enhancements, particularly for the game’s needle movers.
When asked earlier this week about the proposed new golf league that seeks to lure away the game’s top players for a money-stuffed mandatory schedule that includes a team element no one is clamoring for, PGA of America CEO Seth Waugh cut to the core of the matter.
“I don’t think anything is hugely broken, so I’m not sure what the solve is for totally, other than an outside body trying to disrupt and get into the game in a way that I don’t think is in the best interest – long-term interest of the game,” Waugh said.
Put another way, it’s a group attempting to join an industry that isn’t interested in what they are selling.
If you’re a player approaching his career twilight, the allure of a $20 million or $30 million contract is understandably enticing. Everyone loves a gorgeous sunset.
However, it flies in the face of the “independent contractor” label players regularly invoke to justify how they pick and choose where they play. Their schedule will be made for them much like a NASCAR driver knows where he will be every weekend.
Then there is the political element and as much as many like to keep their sports and politics separate, it would be difficult to do in this case.
“I think you’ve just got to be careful sort of what you wish for,” Waugh said.
Weeks like this are what we wish for.
After more than a year of disturbing disruption in everyone’s world, this PGA Championship feels normal again. The galleries, the hospitality venues, the sense of something special.
Seeing Brooks Koepka being badass again, ignoring a knee that still won’t bend properly, drinking in the major championship atmosphere like it’s an energy drink.
Seeing Jordan Spieth chasing the missing piece, trying to add a sixth chair at the most exclusive table in golf.
Seeing players leaning into the headwinds along the beach, like they’re trying to nudge open a stuck door, a major championship trophy on display.
After more than a year of disturbing disruption in everyone’s world, this PGA Championship feels normal again. The galleries, the hospitality venues, the sense of something special.
Maybe a better way will come along down the road but the game is in a very good place.
It doesn’t require standing on a sand dune between the 16th fairway and the Atlantic Ocean to see there is nothing wrong with this picture. But taking it all in as the wind whips, the sun shines and a major championship comes to life only enhances the view.