The Pro Golf Horse Race
With a deal close between the PGA Tour and PIF, can the two sides learn from the decline of another sport that put off-course business above the competition?
Happy Melbourne Cup to all QuadrilateralDownUnderians!
Last Saturday, America’s horse racing Super Bowl wrapped up two-days of races at Del Mar. Those who watched saw Kentucky Derby runner-up Sierra Leone capturing the $7 million Breeders Cup Classic. This traditionally well-run November gathering is played out in ever-more anonymity despite bringing together the best on a beautiful stage. And the once-wildly popular American version of horse racing continues to toil in anonymity on all but Kentucky Derby day.
The list of self-induced problems starts with an inability to jettison cheaters who maniacally sent out unsound horses, only to see some die while their jockeys broke collar bones (if they were lucky). The year-round sport also races too many days compared to other parts of the world. Beyond the bizarre inability to weed out twisted trainers and low-level claiming races where stuff happens, the sport revolves around the wildly lucrative breeding business over the actual racing.
This unhealthy prioritization of what happens off the track started when Middle Eastern interests took an interest in the sport a few decades ago. Since gambling is forbidden in places like Dubai and Saudi Arabia, the push into horse racing was primarily designed to westernize images. And now, to profit off the breeding business. But silly money on the breeding side has made the sport less relatable or competitive. American stakes races now seem to exist only to build a resume for peak stud fees or eye-popping auction sales of unproven horses.
Race purses are comically low, disincentivizing longer racing careers that would let fans get to know the sometimes-wild, often-heartwarming backstories of horses and their connections. As a result of the misplaced priorities, general sports fans have largely abandoned the sport and left it to bettors and the breeding industry. The average American sports nut could not give two, three, four, or five hoots if Into Mischief sired a winner. Or that he now commands $250,000 every time he hooks up with a chosen mare.
Those prioritizing the breeding business think it’s all wildly fascinating. Even as the sport is dying after prioritizing commerce over safety and while waiting too long to reassure fans that integrity mattered.
I point this out because professional golf is veering toward the same lack of popularity as horse racing. The men’s pro game is struggling to uphold the integrity of its competitions after years of not enforcing slow play policies. The PGA Tour continues to resist regulations to keep golf's footprint from growing to unsustainable sizes. And now, tournament fields are shrinking to accommodate the bloat.
The pro game is solidifying a Middle East partnership with a government looking to replenish a sordid reputation. Saudi Arabia wants to use golf to open up new communication lines with business leaders and sell stakes in golf team franchises.
For the love of the game, this is not.
The Sun’s David Facey reported Saturday that “Golf’s civil war is on the brink of a £1 billion peace deal,” with Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund finally ready to hand over the lightly-watched, rarely-taken-seriously LIV Golf to the PGA Tour. This should not come as a surprise since it’s been well over a year since the “events of June 6th” rollout of a “framework agreement.” Comments from well-connected players in recent weeks predicted an impending deal between the adversaries—with the usual caveats about possible detours caused by the Department of Justice, Lina Khan, the Presidential election outcome, or if Mercury is in retrograde. We also know from reports by Bunkered and Golf Digest that PGA Tour Commissioner Jay Monahan was in resplendent Riyadh last week and joined by select minions. All of this comes just weeks after October’s olive branch pro-am round at the Alfred Dunhill Links featuring Andrew Waterman Yasir Al-Rumayyan His Excellency H.E. and Monahan.
I know. You’re getting emotional thinking about those two hacking it around Carnoustie and brainstorming how to bring some Steamboat to the future slopes of Neom.
H.E. His Ownself confirmed last week that PIF was cutting back on international investments to focus on domestic stuff like the disastrously expensive and deadly Neom. But before cutting back, PIF is still going to cut a large check to the PGA Tour and, according to The Sun, let them figure out what to do with LIV Golf while having cash to possibly buy some stuff. Who knows what? But they can now afford the Ryder Cup or Pebble Beach.
For the headache and agony of figuring out how to assimilate the two tours, PIF will reportedly take an 11% share in the Tour. According to Facey, H.E. will get a “Chairman” title entitling him to tedious conference calls about slow play. The Tour will reportedly throw in an additional board seat since they do this a lot these days and have two bloated boards to prove it. But it’s not clear from Facey’s report if the Saudi seats will be on the for-profit or non-profit boards.
Who cares?
Eventually the non-profit model will get swallowed up by the money maker. Arthur Blank already said the quiet part out loud back in February.
So it’s only a matter of time before the still-non-profit PGA Tour is touting its multi-billion valuation and sending more checks to players for (still) being in the right place at the right time. Emboldened golfers armed with a Tour card will continue to insist on TIO relief from every wire, imaginary fishing line, leaf, branch or plume of gassy air interfering with a direct line at the flagstick. But at least the rule-bending in golf is not nearly as grim as what happens when horse racing looks the other way. People and animals get hurt. Fans can’t flee fast enough.
Golf’s flaunting of the rules goes over almost as poorly with core fans who still value displays of sportsmanship and integrity. Casual fans are not turned on by much of anything other than major championship weeks.