The battle for golf’s future began as a cloak-and-dagger operation at Centurion. Players tip-toed through the broken glass and into the comfort of their moral vacuums as they dodged questions and offered platitudes about growing the game. But by the time darkness fell over Hemel Hempstead on Saturday, the disguise had been ditched and the sabre-rattling was front and centre as Charl Schwartzel collected £3.85m and Greg Norman trained his vengeful crosshairs on the PGA Tour. “They couldn’t squash us,” he declared shortly before a fleet of military planes cartwheeled through the sky as part of LIV Golf’s victory parade.
The civil war may have only just begun but there can be little downplaying the significance of this landmark. The field at Centurion might have been weak – a rabble of anonymous prospects, fading forces and barely a handful of genuine stars – but Saudi Arabia’s incursion into golf is no longer a threat on the horizon. A genuine tournament unfolded over three days on the outskirts of north London, the players hailed its success in spite of the moral ambiguity and then took off into the sunset with their bank accounts engorged. Andy Ogletree, the world No 1,371, walked away with £100,000 despite finishing dead last, some 31 shots off the winning score.
“Where the money comes from is not something I’ve ever looked at,” said Schwartzel in a neat summation of how golfers are choosing to bury their heads in the sand. That approach has led to players being labelled “stooges” by Amnesty International and accusations of “betrayal” by a coalition of more than 9,000 families affected by the 9/11 terrorist attack. But what makes the LIV Golf series quite so extraordinary is how brazen it is. This is not a pernicious act of sportswashing, it’s a transparent and hostile takeover where the ludicrous sums are being waved in plain sight.
