What LIV Golf Got Wrong (And Could Still Get Right)

LIV launched around the same time I rediscovered my love of golf. Three years later, LIV and my second act as a golfer are in the same place. A lot of expenses. Nothing to show for it.

When LIV Golf burst onto the scene in 2022, it came with a thunderclap—nine-figure contracts, team formats, fireworks, DJs, YouTube streams, and a promise to “grow the game” by flipping professional golf on its stuffy head. It was bold, it was brash, and it was backed by the kind of money that makes the PGA Tour’s prize purses look like your local Saturday skins game.

But as we approach year four in 2026, it’s hard to argue LIV has fully delivered on its disruptive promise. The league has succeeded in creating headlines and attracting a handful of stars (hi, Brooks), but it still hasn’t become the must-watch weekly tour. Television ratings are modest. Team identities feel half-baked. And most of the world’s best players still tee it up on the PGA Tour.

As a supporter of what LIV could be, I think it’s time for a little tough love. Here are the biggest mistakes LIV made early on—and what they could do differently to fulfill their massive potential moving forward.

They Chased the Wrong Stars First

Let’s start with the splashy signings: Phil Mickelson, Dustin Johnson, Brooks Koepka, Bryson DeChambeau. Big names, no doubt. But outside of Koepka—who has proven he's still a major factor—most of those guys were past their peak or had a complicated brand.

LIV needed young stars with charisma and upside. Think Viktor Hovland, Collin Morikawa (pre press release meltdowns), or even guys like Sahith Theegala—players who could’ve been the face of a new generation, not just aging rebels cashing in.

But LIV’s early pitch was all money, no vision. For top-tier players in their 20s, legacy still matters. Majors matter. OWGR points matter (more on that in a second). LIV needed a pitch that wasn't just, "Here's $100 million to play 54 holes." They needed to sell a dream, not just a bank transfer.

They Ignored the Importance of the Majors and OWGR

Here’s a brutal truth: no matter how much money LIV throws around, the average golf fan still tunes in four times a year—for the majors. And if your players aren't competing in those, or their rankings are sliding into irrelevance, it's hard to stay top of mind.

LIV’s leadership was slow to address this. Instead of immediately working with governing bodies to find pathways for LIV golfers to earn OWGR points or qualify for majors, they played the victim card. Bad move. You don’t win fans by whining—you win them by outmaneuvering your opponents.

They should’ve spent year one laser-focused on building world-ranking credibility. They could’ve hosted co-sanctioned events with the Asian Tour or Latin America to create hybrid fields. Or even created their own “major-style” international events with open qualifying, like a fifth major. The point is, they needed to keep their players relevant—not just rich.

The Team Format Was Half-Cooked

One of LIV’s big bets was the team format. In theory, it’s a brilliant move. Fans love teams. They create identity, drama, and merchandise sales. But LIV botched the rollout.

The teams felt like afterthoughts: random names like “Smash GC” and “Cleeks GC” with zero history, no geographic loyalty, and no clear reason to root for them. How is a casual fan supposed to connect with "RangeGoats" when there's no home base, no story, and no recognizable branding?

The irony? This could still be LIV’s greatest strength. People love Formula 1 because of the team rivalries and personalities. LIV should’ve leaned into this harder. Imagine if Boston had a team with Keegan Bradley and a New England-themed logo. (Like the sim league did) Imagine if fans could own a stake in teams. There’s a missed opportunity to turn golf into something bigger than individual strokes—something tribal.

They Didn't Win the Content Game

For all their cash, LIV somehow lost the media war.

Their YouTube coverage was okay at best, and their social media presence—while flashy—lacked authenticity. Meanwhile, the PGA Tour tightened its grip on influencers, golf YouTubers, and content creators, keeping the conversation in-house.

LIV should’ve owned the content space. Give creators full access from the start. Invite them inside the ropes. Let fans follow LIV players in unfiltered behind-the-scenes vlogs. Show Brooks busting chops in the locker room. Show DJ fishing between rounds. That’s the kind of content that builds parasocial bonds and converts casuals into fans.

You can’t “grow the game” if nobody knows who your players are beyond a leaderboard. In fairness, they have been much better at this in Year 3, but it quite obviously should have occurred from Day 1.

They Made It About Saudi Money, Not the Future of Golf

Let’s be real: LIV is backed by the Saudi Public Investment Fund. That comes with baggage. And LIV didn’t do a great job of managing the narrative. The moment it became a culture war story instead of a golf story, they were playing defense.

What LIV should have done was flip the script. Position themselves as a global tour for a global game. Embrace the future: shorter events, music on the range, mic’d-up players, data-rich broadcasts, interactive apps. They should’ve pitched themselves as tech-savvy, fan-first, and international—the Formula 1 of golf.

Instead, they let the media define them as a Saudi vanity project with golf clubs. Even LIV’s most loyal fans couldn’t always explain what the league stood for beyond “money and disruption.”

Too Many Events, Too Soon

LIV went from 8 events to 14, with talks of more. Problem is, every event felt the same. Same music. Same branding. Same 48 players.

Instead, LIV should’ve created event tiers: four flagship events with massive hype and drama, four international events that explore cool new markets (Singapore, South Africa, Ireland), and four domestic events that build team rivalries in U.S. cities.

Less is more when you’re building something from scratch. Fans need time to miss you before they appreciate you.

What Now?

Despite all these missteps, LIV isn’t dead—not even close. They have money, a core of compelling players, and a format that could be revolutionary. But they need to evolve.

They need better storytelling. Real rivalries. Fan engagement that feels grassroots, not top-down. They need to become more than the “other tour.”

They need to become the tour people care about.

There’s still time. But year four has to be about more than signing a few more free agents. It has to be about building something sustainable, something magnetic.

We supported LIV because we believed in the idea: that golf could be more exciting, more global, more modern. The good news? That idea still lives.

Now it’s time to bring it to life.