End of LIV - Why Golf needs to modernise, not Americanise

In 2022, when LIV Golf teed-up its inaugural event at the Centurion Club in St. Albans, England, it was with a mixture of excitement and scepticism.

There were those who saw it as the modernisation that the game desperately needed, and others who were convinced that it was nothing more than an audacious money grab.

What nobody doubted was its ambition. Backed by Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund (PIF) and fronted by some of the biggest names in the men's professional game; the league promised team-based competition, shorter events, and louder entertainment-first atmospheres designed to attract younger audiences.

It was bold and unashamedly brash, but despite access to seemingly endless stream of funding, the league failed to capture the mainstream imagination or build the credibility necessary to compete with the established tours. So, less than five years after the first shot was sliced in anger, PIF pulled the plug,

So what went wrong?

The best place to start is with a simple home truth. LIV didn't work, because it was never going to work. Not because the numbers didn’t add up, but because the game of golf didn't need fixed in the way that LIV wanted to fix it.

Golf might be an aging, predominantly single sex sport in its traditional territories but it's developing differently in new markets. 27% of new players in Asia for example, are under 25 and 40% of them are female. These guys are already reshaping the way people think about the game and how they play it (40% is in off-course locations like simulators and driving ranges).

But LIV wasn't trying to tap into that. It was trying to expand its reach in existing markets with a very western (read: American) model. But failed to understand what made golf such a successful sport in the first place, or why it's attracting so many new players in other parts of the world.

Audiences want authenticity and that has to be earned.

Events like The Masters or The Open can create sporting drama in iconic settings. But that's not the only reason that they sustain a growing global audience. They are the embodiment of a sporting meritocracy; the pinnacle of that year's attainment and, as a result, they've developed an emotional connection with audiences that span generations.

LIV didn't have any of that. But worse, it was trampling over the top of a lot of it.

Events felt manufactured, lacked significance and rarely produced moments that resonated beyond hardcore golf followers. Bu the new formats also created confusion. LIV’s shotgun starts, team scoring, and abbreviated 54-hole events were intended to make golf more television-friendly, but instead, many viewers just struggled to understand where everything was at.

Television ratings also exposed another harsh reality. Despite signing stars such as Phil Mickelson, Brooks Koepka, and Dustin Johnson, LIV events consistently drew relatively small audiences compared to PGA and DP Tour broadcasts. Proving that star power alone does not translate into sustained public interest.

But the team element - often sold as its greatest innovation - was also its biggest disappointment. LIV's teams were inconsequential, they had no geographic identity, no deep-rooted fan bases, and little reason for spectators to develop loyalty. And while US sports fans may be more used to that, it's a complete anathema across the rest of the world.

Golf needs to change, but that doesn't mean that it needs to get more American.

LIV Golf’s attempt at modernising golf should still be a wake-up call. The game clearly needs to evolve; it just doesn’t need to get more American.

For more than a century, golf’s major championships have defined greatness in the sport. Yet despite golf’s transformation into a truly global game, the sport’s most prestigious events remain concentrated in two countries: the United States and the United Kingdom.

That imbalance no longer reflects modern golf.

Players from countries such as Japan, South Korea, China, Thailand, and India have become major forces in both men’s and women’s golf. Yani Tseng, Inbee Park, and Lydia Ko have helped reshape women’s golf through sustained excellence on the biggest stages. While Hideki Matsuyama winning The Masters in 2021 was a landmark moment not just for Japan, but for the whole of the continent’s four-and-a-half billion people.

That’s more than 60% of the world’s population. 

If golf really wants to reach new, more youthful audiences, then this is where it needs to focus, and there is a fairly obvious way to do it: Asia needs a Major.

If golf wants to be more attractive to a younger audience, it needs to go where the growth is.

The continent has already demonstrated its ability to host elite sporting events. From Formula One races in Kuala Lumpur and Singapore to the Olympic Games in Tokyo and Beijing; the region has repeatedly shown it can organise world-class international competitions with enormous audiences and commercial success. Golf would not be taking a risk by bringing a major championship to Asia. It would be recognising reality.

The commercial potential is impossible to ignore. Asia represents one of the largest and fastest-growing sports markets in the world. Television audiences are massive, corporate sponsorship opportunities are enormous, and golf participation continues to expand among younger and wealthier populations. 

A major championship in Asia would open the door to new fans, new traditions, and a new cultural significance for the sport.

Critics often argue that tradition should prevent the majors from expanding geographically. That every major has a distinct identity that’s key to its success. The Masters is tied to exclusivity and Augusta’s beauty. The U.S. Open is associated with brutal difficulty. The Open Championship celebrates traditional links golf and weather. 

But then there's the PGA! Re-inventing that on the other side of the world would send a message that would resonate well beyond golf.

There is an important fairness argument here as well. Professional golfers from Asia often travel across the world to compete at the highest level, adapting constantly to different climates, grasses, and time zones. Yet the sport’s biggest championships rarely ask Western players to make the same journey eastward.

An Asian major would balance that out while adding another level of attainment for the winner.

Creating an Asian major then, would strengthen golf’s traditions not weaken them. The competition would develop its own personality, iconic moments and rivalries in a way that another Western major never could, and it would not be repeating the mistake that LIV has made. It would be building on golf’s traditions, not trampling all over them. That’s the lesson the sport now needs to move forward with.

Gavin McClement