Fifteen years ago, the New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman interviewed Barnabas Suebu, the governor of an Indonesian province that was facing a dire climate crisis. A Suebu axiom became a rallying cry for effecting change even when the prevailing mindset is ossified: “Think big, start small, act now—before everything becomes too late.”
As mantras go, Jay Monahan could do worse than hang it above the door at the PGA Tour’s Global Home in hopes that what has taken root during his organization’s current crisis will continue to flourish when the threat passes.
One of the Tour’s fledgling efforts to start small and act now was seen during Friday’s third round of the Farmers Insurance Open at Torrey Pines, when Max Homa wore a microphone for a ‘walk and talk’ with CBS Sports. The only players that viewers are accustomed to hearing during tournament action are those who washed-up in the booth or hobbled into a headset, so the shock of access to someone actually competing – heck, contending – might have been enough to topple every groaning barcalounger in The Villages.
Engaging, honest and wry, Homa is a perfect guinea pig for this experiment. Regardless of how compelling the content was in the moment, it’s mere occurrence stands as evidence of two things: how little it really takes to elevate the golf viewing experience, and how long that enhancement was forestalled by the Tour’s corporate killjoy attitude.
This moment with Max didn’t happen now because those in charge of broadcasting golf have never considered how to better do their jobs, or couldn’t be bothered pitching fresh approaches to Ponte Vedra. Every executive involved in televising the Tour has a tale about how their effort to enliven telecasts was stonewalled. Chalk it up to a combination of factors —corporate complacency, a culture of arrogance, a milquetoast reluctance to inconvenience the very players they’re rewarding with millions of dollars annually.
Monahan has lately taken to framing the battle with LIV Golf as one of product versus product, a stance he can only adopt with confidence after the Tour belatedly grasped the extent to which it was shortchanging fans, never mind players. Even the commissioner’s loyalists know that it took a rival product – fortuitously for them, a lousy and amoral one – to force an upgrade of the Tour’s offering, both to members and consumers. Because change came at gunpoint – or, more accurately, at the point of a shamshir – it’s unsurprising that many golf fans greet progress with begrudgery and remain wholly unsympathetic to the business predicament in which the Tour finds itself.
When the war to own professional golf is finally over – surely a few days closer now that General Greg has unfettered command of his side – the Tour landscape will be markedly different. Schedules will be transformed, events elevated, broadcasts advanced and fan experiences enhanced. Players will be paid more too, obviously. Perhaps then cash will cease to be the focus, since golf faces greater questions than the true value of Patrick Cantlay’s charisma.
Shane Lowry is attuned to a longer-term reality that too many of his shortsighted peers neglect. “We got side tracked into thinking that $100 million is just normal. Everybody is throwing out these figures that are just astronomical,” he said recently. “I’m going to Phoenix in a couple weeks to play for $20 million. It’s great to be involved in it. I just hope it’s sustainable.”
A time is nearing when even the biggest Tour stars will need to pump the brakes on what they think they’re entitled to and decide to be a little more like Max, giving a paltry something back to the fans who generate that revenue.
The innovation we saw Friday is small, sure, but not insignificant when viewed as a prelude to future improvements in coverage. The obvious change in mindset at Tour HQ – apparent also in granting access to Netflix for a fly-on-the-wall series– indicates a realization that not only its players deserved better. None of which is to say that gratitude is due LIV, whose own wretched productions prove that elevating the viewer experience isn’t an authentic aspiration. The PGA Tour audience will be better for the current attitude reboot in Ponte Vedra. Someday they might even forget that that it took a ham-fisted sportswashing enterprise to bring about change, even something as minor as putting a microphone on a guy named Max.