Billy Horschel had to be careful he didn’t hit his head on the SoFi Center ceiling after sinking the biggest putt in the short history of TGL on Tuesday night. His sidewinding 18-footer on No. 14 disappeared into the synthetic green and secured the first-ever championship for the Atlanta Drive over New York Golf Club.
As the ball made its way to the hole, obeying Justin Thomas’s stern direction, one couldn’t help but think about how normal all this felt. A few months ago precious few knew what TGL was. A few weeks ago, even those intrigued by the upstart league were working on figuring the whole thing out. But there was everyone, when the lights were brightest, following along as ESPN’s Matthew Barrie discussed hammer strategy. A golf score of 3-0 made sense. A daughter's intermission halftime pep talk didn’t seem out of place. The sounds of nature and blue skies being traded for loud noises and confined indoor spaces didn't seem odd or distracting.
It’s a brave new world. TGL’s first astronauts launched toward the moon with a revisable flight plan. They didn’t quite get there but came close. They might get there next time or the time after that. It turns out that putting best-in-class players into a deeply calculated, made-for-television atmosphere and turning them loose to compete for something that matters creates compelling drama.
It all kind of seems easy when laid out like that. Like this was a layup idea. But make no mistake, this is one of the most creative things ESPN has done in a long time conducted without a wire and replete with risk. Simulator-driven golf played inside could have flopped and flopped hard. Rory McIlroy and Tiger Woods could have failed to get the buy-in from the best players in the world to learn how to play a totally different sport on national television and do it while sharing unprecedented access to their thoughts and conversations. There were plenty of times during the opening weeks where there was some secondhand apprehension as viewers wondered “how is this going?”
Part of that is because no one knew what they were looking at. Forget the ratings for now. TGL’s rookie season was a pass-fail endeavor with one relatively simple goal. Emerge from Year 1 with a common understanding of the regular season and playoff product while creating momentum for next season.
Mission accomplished.
Those who tuned in for the opener and then not again until the finale were hardly watching the same thing. It’s not just that there have been tweaks to rules and presentation. It’s that TGL is teaching people how to be fans. Honest-to-goodness playoff atmosphere with chirping and engaged crowds replaced more docile rubbernecking. They want Baton Rouge on a Saturday night, not Thursday morning at the Barracuda Championship. They will create team loyalty from scratch and advertise merchandise in between the latest in-match parlays. Everything is a playground on which to find the most entertaining and monetized way to introduce this thing to the masses. There’s the ability to exercise a level of editorial control and manufacture intrigue that doesn’t exist in any other televised product.
Like George Bailey observing a run on the building and loan, I’ve watched TGL’s first foray and concluded time and time again that most are thinking about this place all wrong. The future and financial success does not exist, per se, in a Monday afternoon tilt between the Bay and Boston Common. It exists in the proof of concept and the next moves. ESPN, aiming toward an increasingly streaming world, knows this works. The door is wide open to turn this project into something year-round, to have a celebrity version of the competition and incorporate content creators. It’s a classic if-you-build-it-people-will-watch-it concept rife for creating hours upon hours of inventory without building another facility.
Then there’s the golf of it all. Perhaps the biggest question early on was the level at which players would buy into the experience. Indifference would have been a death sentence. Yet until it was actually observed, it was a bit difficult to imagine multi-time Tour winners and major heroes elevating their competitiveness to similar levels while a Chainsmokers song provided the soundtrack and Marty Smith trained his microphone on the nearest celebrity. Again, there should be no confusion about how much these guys want to win. After Horschel’s Drive reached the summit first he told Rickie Fowler that one day he’d be in this spot.
The hardest, most frustrating sport to play does not make it easy to win. New York’s Cameron Young on Tuesday night added an eighth runner-up to his ledger without a single crowning victory. TGL offers yet another bite at the apple and a career accelerator. This is an arena in which to prove greatness and lift a trophy while garnering a different type of attention. For all the majesty of the PGA Tour, it is a grind. Patrick Cantlay can go months fighting for top-20 finishes with only occasionally gracing broadcast television on the weekends. This new sped-up, stylized endeavor puts them at the center of the frame nearly every minute.
In 2025, TGL is at worst a garnish on the overall golf smorgasboard and at best an appetizer. Imaginations may differ but, to me, it is not unreasonable to think in time that indoor action will be every bit the equal of outdoor play in the minds of fans. Dismiss that notion if you must but also consider the rapidly changing world and how the most desirable demographic has increasingly grown up with a screen involved. Expansion is possible if not inevitable. Unless those who participated in the debut run are telling a different story behind closed doors, there will be no shortage of stars who want to get in on the action.
We’re living in a time of great tinkering in the sports and television world. From spring football leagues to 3-on-3 basketball to 54-hole golf tournaments, things are being sliced and diced and repackaged. The projects that will endure must be fun, translate to the screen and have stakes. TGL checks all three boxes. It is the most fun. It’s a television show as much as it is a sport. And when the playoffs hit, they feel like the playoffs. The regular season may seem like something akin to an All-Star skills competition but when it matters, don’t tell anyone involved that the intrigue isn’t on par with the back nine of a meaningful tournament contested on real grass.
There will be a long offseason to assess what worked and what didn’t. There’s an obvious willingness to be reactive—as evidenced by an impromptu video review on Tuesday night when Xander Schauffele dropped his hammer almost in concert with Thomas addressing a putt. For now, though, the biggest takeaway is that the playoffs need to expand. There should always be an edge. Things are best when the players stop being polite and start being real about their intention to vanquish the other side. The good news is that’s a super easy fix.
McIlroy and Woods did not have an easy time getting this thing to the starting line. They may have an easier time getting it over the finish line. It’s ironic that they captained the two worst clubs in the league and were not ever involved in a truly meaningful moment on the scoreboard. That TGL could get to where it did with them observing proudly for the sideline could be considered one of the biggest wins.
After an opening night that was mere months ago in reality but seems much longer in progress, we wondered just how high this thing could fly. On its final offering of the season an answer may be available.
As high as Billy Horschel wants to jump for joy. And as high as the next guy is willing to.
This article was originally published on www.si.com as TGL and ESPN Can Build on Successful Opening Season.
