I know I’m not alone in saying that I can’t help but laugh at the whole PGA-LIV fight, which took a new turn yesterday as the incredibly grieving golfers who were banned from the PGA Tour for defecting to Blood Money Laundering. “R” Us to the south the PGA Tour. It is an important thing to watch a group of rich, white old men who get mad at another group of rich, white old men, who are only watched by rich, white, old guys. It’s like the boring reverse of Zappa’s definition of rock journalism.
The highlight of the lawsuit, and a clear indication that these kids have no self-awareness or shame, is that LIV golfers are claiming that they have been “hurt” by the actions of the PGA. This is after everyone received $ 100 million in appearance compensation simply for showing up, if not much more. So you can’t play in a certain tournament? That $ 100-filled pool will be an awfully nice pillow for your fall. However, pay no attention to the migrant worker buried beneath it.
There are no sympathetic characters here, and what makes it comical is that none of them seem to realize it. I really want Phil Mickelson to show up in a courtroom, with his world-class kid face, and try to make everyone feel sorry for him. Oh, you can no longer play on The Masters, which you’ve already avoided because you didn’t want to answer questions from a press that’s always desperate to lick your ass? Here is Phil, he let me show you how much my ass bleeds for you. Put these two parties in front of any reasonable jury and they will find them guilty or responsible.
To take the place of the smallest violin in the world are the Saudis who claim it due to PGA sanctions and threats, they have had to pay so much for players to show up for their key party soaked in blood and oil that they may not be able to continue their tour as planned. Once you shell out $ 200 million to get a walking peanut like Mickelson to parade on your behalf, you somehow play the game that your hairdressers are bottomless.
It’s like going to the zoo to see gorillas throw their shit at each other, except you don’t have to get off the couch and hope they can choke us too. This is one of those “Oh, for a well positioned ICBM” games.