We’ve all heard the story… Or a version of it, at least.
George Best, likely sometime in the late ‘70s or early ‘80s, is staying in a luxury hotel, has cleaned up on the casino floor, retired for an evening – or an early morning – of bedroom fun with a Miss World winner, and orders a bottle of champagne from room service.
The porter who delivers the bottle – which probably cost more than he earned in a week – surveys the scene: the scantily clad, drop-dead beauty, the mountains of cash, and the European Cup and Ballon d’Or winner – and, clearly being a big football fan, asks the immortal question: Mr Best, where did it all go wrong?
I first heard the tale from Best’s own mouth when he told it in the George Best: Genius video autobiography that my father – a Man Utd fan – who went to university in Manchester and used to regularly watch Best from the Old Trafford terraces was given as a present from my siblings and I – my mother, really – more than 30 years ago.
Even at the tender age of nine or ten, I understood the meaning. Material things were just that, and Best’s legacy would forever be viewed through a ‘what might have been’ lens.
Whether it actually happened or was simply an urban legend that Best deemed apt enough to adopt and spread will never be known – any chance of definitive closure passed away with Best in 2005 – but does it really matter?
Best’s true potential was never fully realised, his legacy forever tainted by off-field exploits that blunted his impact on it, and you have to wonder if Jon Rahm is doing the same thing at present.
Admitting your mistakes is something that many professional athletes struggle with, and it’s no wonder. Belief in oneself is paramount if you’re going to compete with the best in the world at any endeavour and the top golfers are no different. Even after he pushed his body to the limit and well beyond, I’ll wager that Tiger Woods attributes his body’s subsequent breakdown more to bad luck than a crippling work-out regime that Navy Seals undertake.
Rahm’s big mistake was believing that, by moving to LIV ahead of 2024, he was going to be the catalyst in finally bringing LIV and the PGA Tour together, and he’d fill his pockets with ‘free’ money in the process.
But, even for somebody who’s used having lavish spreads laid on in player dining, there’s no such thing as a free lunch.
Let’s face it, Rahm wasn’t alone in his thinking. I certainly believed that a deal was imminent, as I’m sure you did too. Why? Because we were repeatedly being told that a deal was imminent. Rahm, like all of us, was duped.
The difference is that most of us can admit that we got it wrong. The proof is in the fact that, almost two-and-a-half years later, those that were telling us the deal was “imminent” aren’t even pretending anymore.
There is a deal on the table with the DP World Tour, however, and it’s one that Rahm’s Legion XIII teammates Tyrell Hatton and Tom McKibbin were happy to accept.
They’re not quite in the same boat, admittedly. Rahm may be Spanish, but since moving to Arizona for University in 2012, it’s been his home, and he has a wife and three children there.
It’s not quite as simple for him to add two additional DP World Tour events to the four he planned on playing – in addition to the 14 LIV events he’s contractually obliged to play – as it is for Hatton, whose main residence is in England, or McKibbin who now lives in Dubai, and neither of whom have kids as yet.
Moreover, he’d officially have no control over what those events would be, though it’s hard to imagine that a gentleman’s agreement couldn’t be met to avoid sending him to the Magical Kenya Open, for instance.
Adding two additional events to his schedule may be an inconvenience, but it’s the cost of doing business, and in this case, the business is the Ryder Cup. It may even have benefitted him to have, for example, played in the Bahrain Championship this year, the week before LIV’s season-opener in Saudi Arabia where he came up one shot shy, but that’s speculative at best.
The truth is that, were he to accept such a deal – one in which the sole reason would be to reserve his Ryder Cup eligibility – would be to effectively admit that moving to LIV was a mistake in the first place, or that his stance against the fines he’s accrued was wrong.
The irony is that, had he not appealed against the fines originally, LIV would’ve continued to pay them as they had until the end of 2025, and he’d be only start accruing them at a $100,000 per-event basis from this year on. As it is, should his appeal go against him, he’ll either have to stump up the $2.5 million or so himself or hope that his LIV overlords reach back into their pockets to have their prize bull parade around a ring which they own no part of.
The alternative, of course, is to stick to his guns and possibly play no part in any future Ryder Cups.
One of the reasons why Rahm became so popular in the first place – apart from the fact that he’s one of the best golfers on the planet – is that he gave eloquent answers to most questions posed.
He’s still doing that, but unfortunately, he’s now talking out of the other side of his mouth.
He was vehemently opposed to paying any fines, but he admitted that he’d counter-offered to accept the deal as presented if the six events he was being asked to play was reduced to four. That deal required the fines to be paid.
He said that players who joined LIV were well aware of the consequences for their choices and shouldn’t be able to “double dip” and play in PGA Tour events as well, then changed his tune once he’d crossed to the other side of the divide.
And now he’s calling it “extortion” when the DP World Tour says it will require him to play in six events instead of four if he wants to retain membership, when his current employer demands that he play in all 14 events of its events.
Is it ‘extortion’ though? He’s got the semblance of a point. The DP World Tour does, of course, benefit from having the likes of Rahm and other leading LIV colleagues in its fields. They add star power, bring in additional eyeballs, and generally elevate an event wherever they tee it up.
But there’s a very good reason that LIV players are not welcomed back like Prodigal Sons. LIV is a competitor; LIV has taken golf courses like Valderrama off the DP World Tour circuit and held its very first event in London – practically on the DP World Tour’s doorstep.
Now, maybe that’s partly the DP World Tour’s own doing. They had the opportunity to work together with the Saudi PIF back at the start and could’ve gone a different route altogether – one that would’ve seen LIV Golf or whatever form it would’ve taken aligned with the DP World Tour, but given the negative press it received for even partnering up to stage the Saudi International in its first few years, it’s easy to see why they opted against it.
Nevertheless, it seems Rahm is intent to have his day in court and let the chips fall where they may – and who knows, they may well fall in his favour as, though precedent is of major importance in legal proceedings, the wheelings and dealings of recent months may have an impact, as could the suggestion, if proven, that Rahm’s appeal was encouraged by the DP World Tour to ensure that he remain eligible for the Ryder Cup at Bethpage – but it’s a risky move if he values the Ryder Cup as highly as he claims.
Rahm clearly believes that he has the strongest hand – otherwise he wouldn’t be quibbling over the two extra events – but the DP World Tour also believe they’re in a stronger position, otherwise they wouldn’t be strong-arming him in demanding two more. That leaves them in a Mexican standoff.
Whether he’s at the Ryder Cup by panel of arbitration, by begrudgingly accepting his fate and coughing up what may be a major sum to the 99 per cent but a minor one to him, or not at the Ryder Cup at all, his reputation throughout the whole ordeal has taken a turn for the worse in most circles.
That’s a pity, because, were he to simply pay the fines and effectively prove what he and other European players had claimed – that the Ryder Cup was more important to him than a couple of million dollars – his reputation within the continent and on the DP World Tour would be elevated, even if he only teed it up in the bare minimum of the events required.
He’s still one of the best golfers on the planet, but, until such point as LIV is viewed on a competitive par with the PGA Tour, no number of wins and ranking titles will ever be enough to give him legendary status. Instead, he’s got four events every year that really count, and five every other year.
His legacy at present is that he was on top of the world and opted for financial gain over premium competition, and, whether by causation or correlation, his performances in the big four haven’t been overly inspiring since.
Sure, three yellow boxes on Wikipedia look ok, but they don’t tell the whole tale and it’s only the 2025 PGA Championship, where he briefly pushed Scottie Scheffler before wilting on the closing stretch, that he actually had a chance on the final day.
He’s a victim of his own success when we consider that such a ‘poor’ run of major form would be heralded as a great success for many of his peers, but that’s testament to his quality as a golfer.
It may be a narrow window to view it through, but it’s the only window we have at present.
Maybe he ends his career with five or six majors and 10 Ryder Cup appearances and we look back upon this period as a time when he took a principled stand and all else is forgotten, but if he ends it with two majors and four Ryder Cups, no luxury hotel porter will need to ask him where it all went wrong.
The answer will be crystal clear.
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