Lynch: The marriage of LIV Golf and Donald Trump is the stuff schemes are made of

So much of the commentary about LIV Golf has focused on what it is not—as in, not a conventional tour, not a familiar schedule, not 72 holes, not a regular tee time format, not requiring good play for good pay, not on broadcast television, not well-attended by fans and not deterred by mass executions. Only with its third tournament, held this week, was it thrown into sharp relief what LIV actually is. Not for the first time, true character was revealed courtesy of an embrace by the baby-carrot fingers of Donald J. Trump.

LIV’s event at Trump National G.C. in Bedminster, N.J. was greeted with dignified outrage by families of those killed in the September 11 terrorist attacks. They pointed to a U.S. intelligence report declassified in 2021 that suggested Saudi links to the atrocity went far beyond what was previously known — financing Al-Qaeda, spawning 15 of the 19 hijackers — to include government figures from the Kingdom meeting and aiding the terrorists on U.S. soil. Yet when asked about the families’ protest, the former president offered this: “Nobody’s gotten to the bottom of 9/11, unfortunately.”

The comment exposed how Trump is utterly devoid of honor, but it also illuminated why he is perfectly suited to LIV Golf. Their shared parallels are as plentiful as they are unflattering.

Start with the art of obfuscation, practiced at every LIV press conference as both executives and players prevaricate about ongoing abuses by their benefactors. Their evasions on human rights issues and the bonesaw dismemberment of a regime critic are kin with Trump’s absolving the Saudis of responsibility for the murder of almost 3,000 Americans. The requirement of those in the pay of the Crown Prince is always to downplay, deflect, dissemble, deceive, but never denounce.

Then there’s protecting the grift, doing whatever is necessary to ensure the pocketing of other people’s money continues unimpeded. Both LIV and Trump Inc. are taking MBS for a dupe. While Trump collects fees to host tournaments, his son-in-law, Jared Kushner, received $2 billion for his new private equity firm from the Saudi government’s Public Investment Fund, despite objections by the Fund’s advisors over the merits of the investment. At least Trump and Kushner earned the regime’s favor by providing air cover after the murder of Jamal Khashoggi. Accounting for the Fund’s enormous payments to effete golfers is a tougher ask.

Which leads to the inevitable hornswoggle, the suckering of the credulous with talk of a groundbreaking new commodity that feels more like a revenue play for guys whose liquidity can no longer finance their narcissism. The brands of Trump and LIV Golf’s CEO Greg Norman are their names, which they have appended to everything from airlines to steaks. If you’re to persuade a fresh investor to subsidize your swashbuckling self-image, you’d best have new product to pitch. Golf is their means to that end.

Both men are adept at using personal grievances as professional fuel.

Trump’s list of perceived injustices is longer than the Beijing phone book and includes the PGA Tour (for leaving his Doral Resort in 2016), the PGA of America (for taking the 2022 PGA Championship from his New Jersey course to Oklahoma after the January 6 sacking of the Capitol), and the R&A (for not taking the Open back to Turnberry while his name is above the door).

Norman’s well-documented resentment at the Tour dates back decades and is rapidly expanding to include those he deems insufficiently welcoming of his new Saudi-funded venture, like the major championships and the Official World Golf Ranking. No gripe is too petty to go unvoiced at LIV and that has emboldened its players to speak out about the harsh exploitation they endured, like Phil Mickelson with his media rights and Sergio Garcia with his penalty drops.

A common side effect of proximity to Trump and LIV is reputational ruin. Many a man has had his name tarnished by association with 45 and now golfers watch as their hard-earned prestige is diminished, not by the naked money grab but rather by the disingenuous equivocations that are a job requirement when you work for the Saudis. Take Paul Casey, once an admired UNICEF ambassador who refused to compete in Saudi Arabia but who was mute this week when asked about abuses by those whose check he cashed. Next up: Bubba Watson. He adopted two children and is a passionate advocate for the cause, but will one day have to reconcile that with working for a state that has cruelly made adoption illegal.

What LIV Golf ultimately showcased this week is something Trump long ago mastered: the art of theater, of presenting a masquerade to the dissatisfied masses, of promising disruption and reform that it is poorly positioned to deliver upon.

“Our success is a direct result of knowing how to market a brand and having the right people representing the brand,” Norman once gushed in his default corporate-speak. He couldn’t have found more appropriate people to represent the LIV brand than those he assembled this week. It was almost enough to make one pity the Crown Prince whose purse is being chiseled by all of them. Almost.