On a fold-out and aptly named Lazy Boy lounge, with LIV Golf in HD on a Smart TV, Cowboys and Dolphins streaming via the magic of Bluetooth (I’ll never understand how) onto a less smart but still very adequate other TV, and a cold tinny of beer wedged into the excellent can-holder socket thing on the hand-rest, you could argue that this was the perfect Sunday afternoon.
But it was not. Because, unlike what The Lego Movie and LIV Golf’s commentary crew would have you believe, not everything is perfect. Because that cannot be. Where there is Yin, there is Yang. Wherever there is light, there is shade. Where Abe Ancer is stiffing one on 18, Cameron Smith is plugging in a trap.
Still, it was a bloody pretty nice day. I had played golf at morning. I had coffee with the Sunday papers. I’d had pork belly surprise for lunch at the pub.
And, after going home to write’mow the grass’ on the fridge calendar, I settled up with a family-sized packet of cheddar Doritos and a chilled tin of Mick Fanning’s Balter, commanding the televisions to entertain me, you bastards. Wash your sports goodness on me like balm. Bring it, LIV Golf Hong Kong, at this Australian-friendly 3pm start time. Bring. Bloody. It.
LIV Golf Hong Kong did bring it. And it was quite cool in some areas, mildly to fairly aggravating in others, a jumble of colors, a hodgepodge of activity. It was a little of everything, everywhere at once.
The golf was good. It was exciting enough to watch, with half a dozen players in hot pursuit as the field thundered around the turn and down the straight like it was Sha Tin or Happy Valley.
Our guy Smith was leading, Ancer was battling, and Paul Casey was channeling younger Paul Casey. Joaquin Niemann and Bryson Dechambeau were hovering a few strokes back. Jon Rahm was being Jon Rahm, a ball of potential energy, a big tubby bear waiting to burst.
Our Rippers led by two.
On his way to 10-under, Jon Rahm witnessed a sequence of putts miss the hole as he fell three strokes short of a three-man playoff. Photo: Getty Images.
And because everyone was going to finish at the same time, it felt like a race. In a ‘regular’, non-shotgun start, they approach more slowly. It’s as if they seep in over the line. Putt in, hats off, and shake hands. You are aware of the posted scores. You know what the players in the last group or two must do.
Which one is better? In this kneejerk-combative social media arena, let’s go with neither. Let us go with enjoying both things. It is possible to do. Why, I frequently buy Woolworths bananas but will occasionally pay more for the tangier Lady Finger bananas at your Harris Farm. For example.
One factor is that LIV Golf feels faster than traditional professional tournament golf. It seems like there is a lot going on at once. Again, I’m not sure if that’s better. It’s your call. Whatever works for you.
It feels more difficult to keep up, especially when there are two events going on: the individual and the team event. They present it as a benefit. The leaderboard is always active, a dynamic, movable feast of numbers and colors. “Don’t blink” is a tagline.
Colour and noise are marketed as a plus rather than a flaw of LIV Golf.
I did not blink. However, when the team leaderboard shifted and Crushers (-35) and Torque (-33) surpassed Ripper (-32), who had been leading for long periods of time, we did not see all of the shots that contributed to this.
Ripper had been -34. We didn’t see what Matt Jones, Marc Leishman, or Lucas Herbert were doing. Certainly not all of it. Not what contributed. Similarly, we barely saw Casey’s chip-in birdie, but the Crushers moved ahead by two.
Perhaps it is impossible with so much going on at once. To fling the spectator around to all the stories of the day, the filmmaker would have to be one of those alien squids from Men in Black. The viewer would require more televisions. And eyes. The slob on the couch eating Doritos cannot handle information overload.
LIV Golf Tournaments have two competitions. Even watching television makes it difficult to keep track of what is going on.
Furthermore, LIV Golf’s in-house media, including commentary and color folks, are consistently favorable about their ‘product’. You know how some Americans will tell you everything is great? Is it Tuesday? Awesome! Are you cleaning your teeth? Awesome! Dental health is really important!
But here’s the thing: not everything is amazing. There was silence in the commentary box when Smith was seen screaming “S*** that was a f***in’ bad swing”. There is no sound. It needed David Feherty to fill the hole, with a beautiful beat. “I don’t think he liked that one,” he told me.
What LIV Golf commentary needs is a Johnny Miller-type, if not Johnny Miller, who will call individuals to account with scathing remarks.
Miller’s commentary could come across as putting trash on the players in issue. And he didn’t miss them, as Craig Parry’s swing coach would attest.
Miller, on the other hand, was simply calling spades “bloody shovels.” He was doing his media responsibilities by reporting without fear or favour. Hold those in positions of authority accountable, in this case the player.
Cam Smith shot 13-under in Hong Kong but bogeyed the opening playoff hole.
LIV Golf, like the PGA Tour and every other golf program, need independent, third-party media to broadcast their shows.
Everything isn’t fantastic. The golfing public is not stupid. And if Smith’s approach shot in the three-man play-off goes short, right, and into a bunker, that’s the end of the narrative.
Smith bowed out of the PGA Championship of Australia after hitting a few similar shots in Royal Queensland. Not shanks; far from shanks. But they were basically ineffective pieces of equipment that faded away quickly.
And when he plugged in the trap and Ancer hit a pure piece of kit to four feet, it was game over.
So that was my Sunday. Everything was not great. But it wasn’t too horrible either.
A microcosm of LIV Golf right there. It is not ideal. What is it?
But, as Feherty points out, if you like golf, you’ll enjoy it.
Leave a Reply