Golfpocalypse is a collection of words that runs prior to each week's PGA Tour event, mostly ABOUT that event. Reach out with your hottest takes on absolutely anything at shane.spr8@gmail.com. We'll publish the best emails here.

The Tour is back in Doral, and rather than get into the politics of that one, I would like to tell you a brief story about my only time visiting that course, in 2014. That was more than a year before Trump came down the escalator and kicked off his first presidential campaign, and at the time I only really knew him as a rich famous person—I didn't watch The Apprentice, and didn't know about any political ambitions he had.

The week was fine, Patrick Reed won, Tiger Woods hit two fans on Saturday, but the moment I'll never forget came before play had started. I was at my desk in the media center, felt a tall presence behind me. I turned, and there was Donald Trump. He shook my hand and introduced himself, as he was doing with everyone there, and then moved on to a reporter from a more prestigious outlet.

They fell into conversation right in front of me, and the reporter started complaining to Trump about the price of lemonade and pretzels on the course. Even at the time, this was very funny to me, because Trump was clearly the highest status person in the room, but the reporter didn't care one bit. It was even funnier because the media gets free food every week, and because this was at Trump's resort in Doral, that food was excellent ... far better than we got most weeks. And again, it was free. Didn't matter. The reporter was fully haranguing Trump, and the amazing part was, he just listened, nodded and said they'd look into it. I don't know if he was being polite because he wanted good coverage, but even though he clearly wanted to get out of there, he was taking it on the chin. And two years and change later, this man vowing to do something about the price of lemonade and pretzels was president.

1. Rory skipping this one is wild (and possibly a bad omen)

In 2026, there are eight signature events, four majors and one Players Championship. That's 13 events, which feels like an easy bare minimum for the world's top players. There's no longer any rule about how many they have to play—unlike past years, you're not going to get fined for skipping—but when you have one of the world's best players skipping multiple signatures, what are we even doing? I can understand Rory missing the Heritage the week after he won the Masters, but two weeks in a row feels like a bit much.

Here's the bigger question: If Rolapp is successful in pushing through a schedule with something like 20-25 "big" events on the calendar between signatures and majors, how do you resolve this problem? On a very basic level, how are you going to get these guys to show up every week when, at least in Rory's case, 13 is too many? Or what about DeChambeau, who seems like he'd be content playing the four majors and doing YouTube content the rest of the time? Where does the authority come from? This feels like a problem.

(Side note: I've been doing some research on Walter Hagen, and found that in 1926, he played 195 holes in a week to win the PGA Championship on Long Island back when it was a match play format, played a 36 hole exhibition the next day at Winged Foot, went to Ohio two days later for an exhibition, then went to Massachusetts the next day for a two-day match against Francis Ouimet. THESE KIDS TODAY ARE SOFT!)

2. Is it cool to name an entire course the "Blue Monster"?

As much as I get sick of the novelty names for difficult stretches on tour courses—your Bear Traps, your Snake Pits, your Green Miles—I'm not sure I like just giving the scary name to an entire course. Also, "Blue Monster" is the formal name, unlike those other informal nicknames, and that feels a little cheap and unearned, like if I started calling myself "Gunsmoke." I mean, in the six years between 2008 and 2013 when they had a WGC here, the worst winning score was 16 under. And those fields didn't even have Talor Gooch. I think we need to step back a little on the full course labels. Just pick your hardest two holes, call them "The Devil's Vortex," and be done with it.

3. Alex Fitzpatrick might be the most fun part of this tournament

Before he and Matt pulled off that phenomenal ending at the Zurich, Alex was bound for the city of Antalya and the Turkish Airlines Open, but all of a sudden he has a 2.5-year exemption and a spot in the Cadillac Championship ... where he will not join his brother, who is taking this one off after a ridiculously hot six-week stretch. People are a little mad about Alex's exemption—I think it's completely fine for one tournament a year—but he almost instantly becomes the most intriguing part of Doral. What if he wins? What if he suddenly becomes one of the best players in the world, and the next decade is just a duel between him and his brother for dominance? What if Scottie Scheffler breaks down crying and says he wants to be the "third Fitzpatrick." You'll say none of that is likely, but it's pure possibility right now for the second Fitzy, and that's fun.

4. Are we in the age of amazing duels, and might we get Scottie-Cam here?

Golf is famous for denying us the one-on-one duels we crave, but it occurred to me that we are really being spoiled here in 2026. Scheffler-Fitzpatrick at the Heritage was probably the best of the bunch so far, but Fitzpatrick-Young at Sawgrass was a great one, we got a sneaky Rory-Scheffler backdoor duel at Augusta, and you even had Bhatia-Berger at Bay Hill and the wild six-man duel at Pebble Beach. I am definitely getting greedy, but I badly want to see Scheffler and Young fight it out, largely because they have similar dispositions under pressure and I think are bound to be two of the best players of the next five years. I was slightly disappointed with Young at Augusta—thought he'd handle the pressure maybe 25% better—but he was pure ice at the Players, and Scheffler is pretty simply the best pressure player in the sport. This is a signature event, so the odds are still small, but if golf is dealing us a hot dueling hand in 2026, we may as well shoot for the moon.

Fine: Max Greyserman. He's going to have to win at least twice on tour before I can reliably distinguish him from Jacob Bridgeman, Austin Smotherman and Kevin Streelman. (Not really on Streelman, but it made me laugh to include him.)

Visor: Keith Mitchell. I rate this inclusion "visor" because it occurred to me that if he didn't wear a visor, I'd know almost nothing about him. Thank you for the visor, Keith.

Best: Joel Dahmen. We still love him after the breakup with Geno, right? We're sad, but still love them both, and you won't force us to choose? I think that has to be the official line.

Also Best: Max Homa. The Cadillac is going for a real "cool kids" vibe with these exemptions. Anyway, I'm not going to go full Spieth emotional roller coaster with Homa, but I am intrigued by that T-9 finish at Augusta.

Last week we raised it an 8.9, and he didn't play in the Zurich, so in theory it should remain the same, but you know what? We're lowering it to 7.6 just because we get to see the man again. Dad is taking us on a fishing trip, and you better believe that even though he's abandoned before at the last minute, we're going to be out on that porch, fishing pole and tackle box in hand, blinded by optimism and with no memory of the devastating past. Also, how can you watch a hole like this and not love him??

7. Golf Tweet of the Week: What happens when the money runs out?