To dispense with the necessary off the top: any PGA Tour player is welcome to dislike or dispute whatever point he chooses in my work, and for any reason he sees fit. I might even take on board some of the criticisms posted to social media Thursday, though not the monstrous cheap shot about my “fluffy adjectives.” But I write an opinion column, and those opinions don’t require the approval of professional golfers, some of whom seem discomfited by commentary that isn’t affirming and flattering.
What irked some was a column critical of Patrick Cantlay, who has been discreetly rallying fellow members against the proposed deal between the PGA Tour and the Saudi Arabian Public Investment Fund. That Cantlay has profound misgivings about the agreement should be welcomed since it represents a potentially poor settlement for his tour. The basis for his opposition matters, however.
Most elite PGA Tour players aren’t troubled by doing business with the Saudi government, the moral argument never having been a serious consideration. Nor are those opposed to this deal bent on salvaging the reputation of their Tour, which has performed a rhetorical backflip that would be the envy of Simone Biles. A few might still be upset about the secretive process toward the agreement, but even that has largely dissipated. For a handful of key guys, the concern is leverage, as in where can they find it? A deal that takes a competitor off the board, to use Jay Monahan’s words, also takes leverage from players who would no longer have a spendthrift suitor and who’d likely miss the lucrative cash out enjoyed by the soon-to-return LIV guys. Nixing this deal and fashioning an alternative with private equity potentially keeps LIV as a competitor and serves their narrow interests.
After a five-hour meeting on Tuesday, the Tour’s policy board released a statement that was at pains to emphasize the importance of input from player-directors, none of whom were in the loop about the agreement until just before it was announced. Fears about member discontent — among both elite and rank-and-file players — are real, and offer the board a sharp reminder about where power lies in the organization. Such wariness is understandable since surveying the path on which the Tour has set out suggests a perilous journey ahead.
The framework agreement between the Tour and the Saudis didn’t much satisfy any constituency, and as the basis for a radical restructuring of professional golf, it was awfully light on particulars. But it did illuminate the priorities of each party.
For the Saudis, it was ending the legal discovery process that could have exposed the Fund’s investments beyond golf, and also a desire for broad acceptance in the sport. For the PGA Tour, it was about ending legal bills and obtaining a cash infusion that would, among other things, sustain purse increases. If the proposed deal is consummated, both sides get what they wanted. If it isn’t, the Saudis still get their wish list, but the PGA Tour does not.
Even without a final agreement, litigation has ended and Saudi money has been normalized. The Tour still faces a Department of Justice investigation and Congressional probes, plus the risk of Saudi investment not materializing. Its legal leverage has been withdrawn, the morality card can’t be played with a straight face, and a green light has been given for corporations and players to kick the tires on LIV for themselves. The Saudis can continue operating LIV if no deal is reached, in which case more top players might opt to jump.
In short, the PGA Tour will be worryingly dependent on Saudi good faith in negotiations.
It wasn’t widely noted that deep in the framework document — paragraph 9 of 10 — is a non-disparagement clause, though it seems no one thought it necessary to ask for a non-dismemberment rule. The provision extends beyond the immediate negotiating parties to include “ultimate beneficial owners,” which in PIF’s case is the Saudi government, against which no criticism can be leveled.
But hey, it’s better if everyone agrees not to say anything mean.