The shame of it is that Johnson still could be. He finished the day at 9-over par and was cut – walking proof of what happens when the desire for greatness is overtaken by the desire for a ridiculously overstuffed bank account.
It’s important to say at the outset that this perspective does not embrace any kind of tall-poppy, green-eyed snitcher on those who earn a lot of money, even embarrassing riches. Elton John once told a magazine interviewer that he spent US$57m in 20 months. “I am not,” he said, “the sort of person who has a nest egg.”
Good luck to Elton, golfers, boxers, footballers and any other sportspeople who earn the big bucks. I’d do it too, if I had the ability.
However, there’s something ineffably sad and, yes, even offensive, about golfers who take the money by heading off to a tour that no one follows or cares about when (a) they are already earning plenty on the PGA Tour and (b) when they leave the chance to imprint their name in history.
The Saudis’ sportswashing is one thing – and let’s not get into that here – but here’s what Johnson said when he accepted the US$125m: “I don’t want to play golf the rest of my life, which I felt like I was probably going to have to do.”
How’s that again? At that time, Johnson was the third-highest career earner in golf with US$74m, behind only Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson (also a LIV defector). Apart from that US$74m from the PGA Tour, he’d racked up US$27m in FedEx Cup bonuses and another US$100m in career endorsements up to the point when he joined LIV.
That’s over US$200m – and doesn’t count other golf-related income. Arnold Palmer was still earning US$30m a year from off-course endorsement and royalties when he died in 2016, aged 87. So on what planet was Dustin Johnson imprisoned and sentenced to a lifetime of playing golf?
This, however, is about the fire going out – by great tracts of money extinguishing the ambition to perform at the top level. Golf is already the biggest “head game” in the universe and, yes, LIV golf with its three-round tournaments and team structures does not prepare a player like Johnson for the travails of Pinehurst No. 2. But how do you compete when you’ve already won the prize money? By the time he’d played nine holes, Johnson was six over par and 10-over for the tournament.
The real comparison is, however, not with Aberg but with Johnson’s LIV contemporary, Bryson DeChambeau. The fire still burns in him, though he isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. “Bryson DeChambeau” sounds a bit like a porn star or a made-up name; it’s real enough and he fascinated golf audiences after he took to the gym and a beef-me-up diet, turning up with muscles on his muscles and barely fitting his shirts. The idea was to overpower golf courses with brute force.
DeChambeau is known to some as “the mad scientist” because of this scientific approach; he once said technology advances meant his goal was to live to 130 or 140. He gave up on the brute force experiment (not sure about the living to 140 thing) and has a great chance to win this US Open.
That’s because the ambition to do so is still strong. He has curtailed his power game for Pinehurst, playing what he calls “boring golf”. It’s not about the money; it’s about proving he’s still among the best in the world. He’s not the only LIV golfer up there. Sergio Garcia is top 20 and Brooks Koepka, still a fierce competitor, was in the conversation until he lost four shots in two holes in a typical Pinehurst ambush.
At the end of the second round, Aberg led, DeChambeau was tied for third. Johnson? Tied for 109th and on his way home. But at least he doesn’t have to play golf.
