The FedEx Cup Fizzled Out With Another Meh Finish

It wasn't bad by any means, but the PGA Tour's signature event once again ended without the kind of every-man-for-himself drama real tournament golf provides.

Let’s be honest, something was amiss. The final round, and final week of the FedExCup Playoffs was more like a Grateful Dead concert without Jerry Garcia.

Doesn’t suggest the remaining band members are not talented, doesn’t suggest their show isn’t worthwhile. But something is amiss. That’s how the Tour Championship played out.

And if we’re being truly honest, no one should be surprised. The fireworks by Tony Finau at the Northern Trust, the punches traded by Patrick Cantlay and Bryson DeChambeau at the BMW Championship … how do you take that up a notch?

Those were tough acts to follow for the Tour Championship.

Make no mistake, these guys are trying to win. That’s what they do, what they’ve done since they were juniors, since they were college-age amateurs, since they turned pro. The idea they grind over a putt while thinking about how much money it’s worth is far-fetched. How could anyone operate that way?

But in terms of sizzle, fan interest and television ratings, it’s hard to buy to a “battle for third place,” when the guy who finishes third gets $4 million while the guy who settles for fourth gets $3 million. They both stand to make more bank than they might ever make by finishing first anywhere else, a lot more.

This FedExCup finish just doesn’t translate, not to golf fans who programmed in a different way. This is “money for nothin’ and the chics are free.” This is not in golf’s DNA, not what separates it from the other sports animals. Many conversations with athletes from other sports have fortified the fact.

For instance, this scribe remembers sitting in a baseball dugout once with a big-league pitcher, who watched his teammates working out before a game. The richly compensated Cardinals lefty was on the disabled list, a place he frequented during his career. As he sat in the shade, looking out on the sun-drenched field, he looked at a sportswriter making a fraction of his salary and couldn’t resist.

“Ah well,” he said, exaggeratedly, “Another day, another $78,000.”

He was teasing, but the point is pertinent. With its multi-year, guaranteed contracts, baseball is like that, so is football, basketball, hockey … Golf is not. At least, that’s not golf the way we know it.

As we know it, this sport guarantees nothing. In this sport, you’re only as good as your last tournament, even your last round. In this sport, you have to shoot the score to cash the check. The idea you make a golf event special by throwing gobs and gobs of money at it … that you essentially hand out appearance fees at your premier event … that enrich performers who already have earned enrichment for their past performances just doesn’t feel right.

Again, not suggesting this is a player problem, or that competitive desire is compromised. Competitiveness is in the DNA of these guys. It’s why they are here, why they’re in a position to win such a lottery.

But it changes the ambience and spoils the party. When we know Brooks Koepka is assured of $495,000, even after he withdraws with a wrist injury on Saturday, it doesn’t translate. When we know Patrick Cantlay will get $15 million as long as his final round is no more than three shots worse than Jon Rahm’s, when we know Rahm gets $5 million for finishing second … something is amiss.

Amiss when there is no drama to cover it, and on the final day of the 2020-21 PGA Tour season there wasn’t. The outcome was basically a match-play affair in the final round, and even that is a misnomer. The play of Cantlay and Rahm might have been more interesting if it was truly a match. At least holes would have been won or lost.

Instead, only one shot was exchanged. Cantlay began the day at 20-under par and finished one shot better. Rahm began the day two shots behind and finished it one shot behind. Fifteen other players on the course shot similar or better rounds than the two at the top. But it didn’t matter.

In the end, there were no fireworks, no punches traded and — after four consecutive finishes to the contrary — not even a playoff. And it’s understandable, because golf is like that. To expect the amount of drama that took place previously in these playoffs was asking for miracles. In golf, there are no such guarantees.

But something is amiss when you hand out that much money for anything less.