Golf + Media: Shanks and Solutions

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.” — Ernest Hemingway

The present-day rapport between domestic culture and the media is fickle at best.

As microcosm: Golf courses, (pro) golfers and the business of golf are, unfortunately, no exception.

Fueled in part by a politically charged American mistrust and distrust of media in recent years, the way one votes is but a piece of the strained puzzle.

In this Age of Aesthetic, this Era of Personal Branding, those on the opposite side of a recorder (i.e., story subjects) are oftentimes financially motivated to keep (or try to keep) a hagiographic grip on controlling their own respective narratives. When combined with a generational zeitgeist of oversensitivity — “Wait, what, you’re going to write or broadcast something that tells people I’m not perfect?” — the work of hand-holding a story or story subject, navigating gatekeepers and ensuring editorial independence is more delicate than ever.

Some of this, of course, we, the media, have broadly brought upon ourselves. A mushy grip and thirsty segue from traditional print media to online voices and social media presence over the past two decades does not a clean baton pass make. To wit: One only needs to review the cacophony of postings and suspect reportage at the most recent Ryder Cup to basically walk away with no cemented sense of what is true and what is clickbait.

And, let’s face it, as most of the print world has endured financial struggles across the new millenium, it’s not like a scroll of Indeed.com reveals a rush of job postings for either copy editors or fact checkers; most outlets simply can’t afford to keep and/or hire folks to perform those tasks anymore, which, in the broad, has undoubtedly and unfortunately resulted in more grammatically poor copy and sloppy syntax than ever before in the history of the printed word.

Stories about trying to tell stories

That’s the bad. Here’s more bad.

I’ve been doing this a long damn time, nearly a quarter-century. And while I’ll spare the details of the C.V., allow me to offer with confidence that I know what I know — and I know my trade.

Over the first two decades of my media work, it was with some occasion I’d be asked by a story subject to serve as blocking back, that I’d have to hurdle some encumbrance to get a story done or that I’d basically have to justify my worth, value, trustworthiness or existence to somebody or someplace that I was covering.

Now? Hell, in the past four or five years, it’s with regularity that I’ll personally experience (or hear from a colleague about their personally experiencing) some degree of blockade, skepticism, distrust or vetting with an assignment. Doesn’t matter if it’s a print or broadcast project. On a near-weekly basis, I’ll either encounter (or hear about a colleague’s encounter with) one of the following:

• Request for questions in advance
• Request to review my work before it goes to print
• Request to edit out something after a pre-recorded podcast interview
• List of suggestions (not always the worst thing, actually) for what a story subject or locale believes should be covered or highlighted in a piece.

Save for the latter — which I always review, and sometimes include — I generally if not always offer a polite declination. As I see it: I’m not writing copy. I do my job and you do your job, and for you to do my job is all but to take the pen out of my hand, make me irrelevant and to present a lesser final product than I’d construct on my own — basically making me an A.I. shill for the deified, shining aesthetic message that a story subject wants me to put out rather than the trained tradecraft that I’ve busted my butt for nearly 25 years to try and perfect.

Too opaque?

Here are a few recent examples that have stuck under my skin:

About 15 months ago, I was part of a media trip to a great golf destination, one that I’d longed to visit and write about for some time. In the middle of the trip, as I’m wont to do, I used some downtime amid the itinerary to stroll off the beaten path. A close friend and colleague once advised, “When you’re on these trips, go where the host tells you not to go.”

Personally, I feel like I’m doing the reader a disservice when I neglect to include some sense of place away from a golf course, whether that portrays the destination for bitter or better. On this trip in question, what I observed away from the golf resort property disturbed me in … let’s say a social sense. Later that night, walking to dinner, I told our host (p.r. guy, and a good one, real vet of his trade) of what I saw, and that I intended — along with all the genuinely good things — to slide in a line about this particular impression of social concern in my article.

“You’re going to mention that?” he fast responded, incredulously.

“Yeah, man,” I replied, in this and subsequent conversations and emails. “What I saw had an impact on me, and I really think that visitors seeing the same will have the same reaction. To leave it out would be an oversight on my part. Don’t worry — 95 percent of my article will be a glowing review of this place. But I think it’s my job, my duty, to reserve a few lines of my work to paint a broader picture, the real picture.” Sure, some of this dialogue is refined for these purposes, but you get the point. The point I got? Well, this p.r. guy has never invited me on another trip.

Here’s another one. Different situation but in the same vein. This past spring, I was covering a sizable pro sporting event, one with big postseason implications for the host team. A packed house, rabid fan base.

During a break in the action, I went to stretch the legs and as I returned to the dedicated workspace, a dude in front of me in the corridor donned a shirt lambasting the media. He was maybe 20 feet from our row of notebooks and recorders and cameras and laptops, and I don’t think anybody else noticed him (or his shirt), just as I don’t think he realized he was steps away from 20 people he (or his attire) was publicly slighting. Hell, it’s a free country.

I was tempted to (calmly) stand up for myself and my fellow media members, but I just let it go. Although, obviously, I haven’t really let it go. Guess I’ve always felt that my writing has presented a tone of brotherhood, of fellowship to the unknown, gentle reader. But now, more often than I’d like, it has entered my mind that, sometimes, if not often, I’m being read by foe, not friend.

Lastly, a specified reference to Golf Course Industry. Along a not dissimilar timeline to the above, I was writing a story for these very pages and working with a location here in my Coachella Valley home that I’ve prolly’ written about 50 times since I moved here 13 years ago. Per much of the readership of this publication, I asked — on two or three occasions — to source the property’s superintendent. Who did I get? The GM. Which was fine, I guess. I knew that, in the end, I was telling a good story — but not the best story, not the boots-on-the ground story that was truly befitting the assignment.

This kind of gatekeeping is frustrating at best, but this GM … he’s an “on-message” guy who wants his property depicted in a very specific way. The superintendent? He’s well known to be something of a wild card type, which, to me, says that he would have told me something far more interesting than what I ultimately got and what I eventually presented to you.

Solutions

As the same Go-Where-They-Tell-You-Not-To-Go Pal said, this learned fella’ also instilled in me the value of not simply recognizing problems but also presenting solutions.

With that ethos in mind, may I please offer the following considerations for how golf properties and golf brass can re-galvanize a more fruitful, more productive, more trustworthy and more personal relationship with the media.

All golf is local

Often is the awesome opportunity for golf media members to be invited to great destinations around the country, if not the world. Rare, however, is the media day held by your local course. And this is a shame for both sides.

For course owners, operators, head pros, GMs and superintendents, might I suggest reserving, say, an annual Tuesday afternoon in your offseason (or, really, whenever it may least affect your bottom line) to host your local media members to a round and a few post-play libations. Doesn’t have to be anything formal or fancy, and, heck, for some markets, this might result in, like, a mere foursome or two. But it can be such a win-win. For the course, it’s an opportunity to spend a handful of hours with folks who (if they’re doing their jobs right) are always on the lookout for a good story, a chance for face-to-face connection, a way to create communal kinships and to let the world beyond your respective grounds know what you and your staff are all about.

Digital swing

Sure, many if not most golf properties can ill afford to have a dedicated person on-staff to constantly update a website or social media accounts. But know that even the slightest bit of presentation can go a long way for media either interested in or assigned to write about your property.

When I see a dead or dated social media account, it kinda vibes that the property lacks some attention to detail or might have a lotta turnover. Inversely, when I research a place that, say, has weekly postings — whatever the content may be — it’s like an extension of the locale’s heartbeat, as if it’s active, engaged and breathing. And fear not, really, there’s no need to hire somebody to take this on if your place can’t afford it. Simply dedicate 15 minutes a week to getting something up there, even if you schedule all your posts in advance. Trust me on this, it gives the media a real sense of vibrancy to see fresh posts.

In kind, for your website, try and dedicate, say, one day every six months to update your website’s “Press” page (and, if you don’t have a Press page on your site, create one today). When I see such a page on a course I’m researching, it’s not only a helpful way to get me better informed about your property, but it also shows me that you are enthused about the attention that media can bring and are engaged to have your course or courses written about even more.

Cyclical foresight

Yes, in this post-pandemic era, golf round counts across much of the union continue to flourish. And that’s terrific, even if, for our media purposes, it may well mean that you don’t need us quite as much these days to help get your word out. But if we’ve learned anything about such stats, they’re cyclical.

Over the past century-plus of American golf, history has proved that mythical names ranging from Ouimet to Woods can create surges in participation based on their accomplishments … before said surges eventually abate, and the playing plane evens to the mean.

The non-diehards realize that golf is hard and takes time and can be expensive, and their respective clubs find cobwebs anew in the garage. Today, so says the National Golf Foundation, domestic golf rounds are up double digits when contrasted with the pre-COVID-19 averages of 2015-19. Of yesteryear, so says the National Recreation and Parks Association, an epilogue of the “Tiger Effect” from 2003 to 2018 saw a golfer decline of about 22 percent.

Point being: Eventually, this present surge (which, again, is wonderful and excellent and to be celebrated) will, at some stage, achieve its plateau and eventual regress.

And who can help you then? We can. The media. Trust me.

Judd Spicer is a California-based writer and a senior Golf Course Industry contributor.