Premier League owners have waded in on golf’s civil war – it is far from over

If you listen to the whispers on the range – and sometimes the 30mph crosswinds on a par three are easier to fathom – then not only does Tiger Woods have different “merger” views to his friend and business partner Rory McIlroy, but when it comes to golf’s future, somehow Liverpool FC are taking on Chelsea – and both could soon be ganging up on Newcastle United.

Of course, we are talking about LIV Golf. The breakaway league that manages even in the midst of supposed peace talks to split up the narrative in the style of a sledgehammer on a pomegranate. Complexity reigns and nobody truly knows what will emerge from the mess.

Fenway Sports Group and Todd Boehly can sniff profit among the mush, however. The owners at Anfield and Stamford Bridge respectively are among the five investors who are reportedly being considered as US financial partners in the new order.

That list has been whittled down as the $600 billion Saudi sovereign wealth fund is seeking to invest at least $2 billion in the emerging for-profit company called PGA Tour Enterprises. As well as LIV – if – PIF is involved, this revolutionary overhaul will take in the DP World Tour. And every other question here at the European circuit’s season-ender has concerned what happens next?

Inevitably, that ratio only increased when it broke on Wednesday that McIlroy has quit the PGA Tour’s policy board with more than a year of his player-director role remaining. “There will be no deal with the Saudis,” went the general cry. “Rory’s getting out before it all kicks off again.”

McIlroy, himself, was the picture of calm when detailing his reasons on Thursday. He wants to spend more time with his golf clubs, his family and his own personal investment portfolio and, with board meetings taking up to seven hours in tournament weeks, nobody can blame him for walking away.

But as he explained that his objectives would now be unashamedly and understandably self-centred, he uttered an intriguing comment that could cut to the heart of where this saga is headed. “At the end of the day, the PGA Tour agreed to let a sixth player on the policy board, so the players are the ones who are going to control the future anyway,” he said.

It did not generate the headlines of certain other announcements, but Jay Monahan’s missive to his members on August 1 was at the very least as notable. The PGA Tour commissioner revealed that Woods had been welcomed on to the policy board to replace the retiring Randall Stephenson, the former AT&T CEO, and that now with a six-five split of players to executives it would be the golfers who would ultimately get the final say on any deal notionally agreed.

In short, Woods, Patrick Cantlay, Webb Simpson, Peter Malnati, Charley Hoffman and whoever comes in for McIlroy are not sat around the table with the PIF and are not, officially, anyway, in discussion with the would-be home suitors, but when the detail is drawn, they have the collective power to rip it up.

“This is a critical point for the Tour, and the players will do their best to make certain that any changes that are made in Tour operations are in the best interest of all Tour stakeholders, including fans, sponsors and players,” Woods said.

It is a huge burden for these sportsmen to carry and evidently for McIlroy, too huge. Woods and Co – the Seismic Six as they have been coined – are being kept abreast of the progress in the negotiations by Colin Neville, a partner of the Raine Group, the global specialists in mergers and acquisitions, who as well as being appointed as special advisers to the player directors, has been busy overseeing the sale of Manchester United and before that Chelsea.

Like this golf deal itself, Neville is Premier League and it is too tempting to analyse the tentacles weaving through the English sporting behemoth. The EPL is rapidly becoming a standard bearer for US venture capitalists and professional male golf should be thrilled to be regarded with such potential.

Except, imagine Erling Haaland, Mohamed Salah and Kevin De Bruyne having the authority to override the decisions of the Glazers, of Boehly, of FSG, of Stan Kroenke… or even the Premier League itself. The force Woods once wielded in that Sunday red shirt could be nothing to the might he now possesses in his suit.

And here is the thing. Woods’s influence could be key in triggering or averting another golfing civil war. Woods, like McIlroy, detests LIV but unlike McIlroy, his disdain seems to expand to the Kingdom in its entirety. No doubt, it is personal between him and Greg Noman, the LIV chief executive, but as a military kid whose viewpoint was framed by 9/11, there will be a deep Woods enmity to Saudi Arabia.

The 15-time major winner turned down eye-watering appearances to play in Jeddah when the Saudi was washing its laundry in golf’s much vaunted “eco-system”. With a rejected $700 million LIV offer, Woods confirmed he could not be swayed. Not by that cascading revenue stream anyway.

In the shadowy machinations, Woods and his management team have been progressively depicted as courting the US dollar to provide a viable alternative to the PIF merger. Not just as a sweetener to Congress, which could scupper any agreement with Middle East funding, but as to an end it itself.

This would run contrary to McIlroy’s stated wishes. He indicated before he handed in his “Dear John” that he wants PIF to be involved, saying that the game would remain fractured and suggesting that, if snubbed, or even, humiliated, the Saudis would double down in their LIV onslaught.

The Seismic Six do not share the same hopes in the merger discussions, as McIlroy spelt out, with his own mix of common sense and instinctive erudition.

“When you get into a room people have different views and opinions on what should happen,” he said. “I certainly had my own. Some people agreed and some didn’t. But that’s the nature of sitting on a board. Not everyone is going to agree on everything. You have to compromise and come up with the best solution. I’m pretty happy with the direction of travel. It’s just a matter of getting the thing done as fast as possible. Then we can all move on and focus on the good stuff, which is the birdies and the bogeys.”

Does McIlroy seriously want to be on an opposing side to Woods, his childhood hero with whom he is soon launching TGL, the indoor golf league? He cannot win. He recognises that it is impossible for everyone or perhaps even a healthy majority to be content. This is the growing consensus as the industry tries desperately to predict the fallout from dealings that will, almost certainly, run past the December 31 deadline.

“There are different factions among the players, all largely governed by self-interest,” an insider said. “It is like trying to herd frogs in some respects. Rory, as he tends to, sees the big picture and would be praying that there is a way to satisfy each of the parties. This could entail private equity from the US and the Saudis as a sort of sleeping partner, with its branding and lofty positions on the top boards earning it the exposure and influence it wants.”

Yet whereas some of the powerbrokers might wish to take on the Saudis – a very dangerous game – there will be other players who do not necessarily desire a lasting peace and might not be aghast at the prospect of a LIV escalation because of the leverage it might present. Inevitably, Cantlay – he of Ryder Cup “hatgate” – has been portrayed in this Machiavellian garb.

“The trouble with that ‘more and more’ approach is the prize money, with $20 million purses, and other incentives, featuring $10 million bonuses or whatever, are unsustainable in the long run,” the well-placed source said. “The US venture capitalists will demand a return on their investment but at the moment the golfers are getting paid NFL wages without producing anything like NFL ratings.”

As McIlroy said here on Thursday: “Something has to give.”