The PGA Tour has emerged victorious from golf's civil war, and the evidence was on full display Thursday as the Tour returned to Doral for the first time in a decade. It felt like an official declaration that the LIV Golf experiment had fizzled, leaving behind nothing but the sour taste of a failed hustle.
Now, the golf world faces one lingering question: what to do with the bank-rich, morally-bankrupt LIV players who want to come back to the PGA? Should they be forced to qualify all over again? Play without their 5-irons as penance?
"I'm not sure," said Jordan Spieth, who sits tied for second at 7-under par after the first round of the Cadillac Championship, one stroke behind leader Cameron Young. "I'm not sure if it should be the same for everyone. I know olive branches were given out a couple months ago. Brooks (Koepka) took them up on it. So I'm not sure what would now change."
As the dust settles, it's worth asking: what is LIV's lasting legacy? There was Greg Norman's militant nuttiness, players wearing shorts, music on the greens, and the "golf but louder" slogans. But its primary legacy will be showing what a pile of Saudi Arabian blood money can do to people—and to the games they play.
Fans can usually ignore the big money at most sports events and simply enjoy the game. But with LIV, the scorecard was the money itself. That's not to say money isn't a factor in all golf. But this became a civil war between millionaire golfers with some moral backbone and tens-of-millionaires without any.
"I hate LIV—hate it," Rory McIlroy once said, later adding that he felt "betrayed" by its defectors.
So, was it worth it for the LIV players? Let's do the math. Brooks Koepka reportedly signed a five-year, $100 million deal to play with LIV, plus roughly $45 million in prize money. But he reportedly didn't take his final year's installment to start his return to the PGA as part of that olive branch. Subtract that pro-rated $20 million, plus another $5 million charity donation woven into his PGA agreement. Image rehabilitation has a price.
Still, all told, Koepka made roughly $120 million in four years. Not bad for a gamble that ultimately left the PGA standing tall.