There were lessons to learn from Trent Ryan and the Creator Classic.
Getty Images
I’ll admit it. I was skeptical of the PGA Tour’s Creator Classic.
I’ll start out by saying I know it’s not my job to be the “approver” or “rejector” of something that is already wildly successful. The numbers and fans show it: YouTube Golf is a massive hit. It’s just that I already consume so much golf as it is that I try to keep my TikTok and YouTube consumption golf-free. My Instagram and Twitter feeds are 99 percent golf. Between my GOLF job and my TGL gig, I spend all day every day taking in this sport.
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love it. However, my brain is oversaturated with random golf facts that probably keep me from committing more important information to my long-term memory, so I’ve sort of steered clear of YouTube golf for that reason. I’m not sure I have the brain capacity to start taking in even more of the sport. Because of that, I assumed the Creator Classic wasn’t for me. I don’t know all of the YouTube golf personalities the way the thousands of fans who came out to watch (and record and cheer) at TPC Sawgrass do.
But on Wednesday, I learned that being a diehard YouTube Golf watcher isn’t a prerequisite for enjoying the Creator Classic.
As I headed over to the practice green by the 10th tee on Wednesday afternoon, I noticed a lot of familiar faces. I’m about 200-times more comfortable hanging around PGA Tour pros. I know them. I know their games. I know their caddies, their coaches, their agents and their families. I’ve tried to get some friends to be as excited as I am about professional golf, but it can be hard to give a crash course when I’ve spent the last seven years pouring my heart and soul into the gig. One friend said she felt like an outsider when it comes to golf, which at first I didn’t understand but suddenly worried about as I cut inside the ropes at the Creator Classic. Was I about to experience the same thing on Wednesday afternoon at the Players Championship? Quite the opposite.
The first-tee area at the Creator Classic felt like going to a new friend’s birthday party. I knew a handful of people, but then those people all introduced me to their friends, and by the time I left, I felt like I had known everybody forever. I saw Roger Steele, Tisha Alyn and the Barstool guys. I saw PGA Tour commissioner Jay Monahan taking it all in, and I saw thousands of young fans ready to scream their hearts out for their favorite golf influencers.
I didn’t follow a particular group during the event. Instead, I kind of roamed around and found myself following the way I’d probably follow professional golf if I knew a lot less about it. For me, it was more about taking in the vibe instead of seeing how a certain player was putting. And you know what? I had a total blast.
I headed over to No. 17 to watch a handful of creators test their fate as they hit it over the water. I kept an eye on the leaderboard as Chris Solomon from No Laying Up continued his impressive play. As my eyes made their way down the leaderboard, I saw Barstool’s Trent Ryan at 21 over par.
“Geez,” I thought to myself. “I could never play in an event like this. I’d totally embarrass myself.”
My deprecating thoughts were interrupted by hundreds of people cheering, and I looked up to see Ryan approaching the 17th tee. He hit one in the water. And then twice. And then three times. And then one last time.
“He’s gonna run out of golf balls,” I thought to myself. I had an embarrassing moment on the course earlier in the day that involved dropping my metal water bottle on a metal table on the tee box — not once, but twice! — as Rory McIlroy and Shane Lowry jumped a mile after hearing the noise. I was the only one standing near them as they sat under the water cooler, and 100 or so fans witnessed and then laughed at the whole thing. I wanted to disappear the moment it happened. I was mortified. I wonder if Trent Ryan felt the same, or if he maybe felt a little discouraged and wondered if he’d ever land a ball on the green. I know I would.
But then something lovely happened. The fans started cheering louder. Frankie Borrelli, his coworker and caddie for the day, started a “Trent” chant. You could feel the energy at the Creator Classic rooting for Trent Ryan to hit the green. And on his fifth try, he did.
The crowd went wild. The celebrations matched, if not exceeded, the ones I saw earlier in the day when a pro made a hole-in-one. And it didn’t matter that Trent Ryan was en route to carding an 11 on the hole. That’s the best part about golf. The fewer perfect shots you hit, the more the good ones get celebrated.
I suddenly found myself envying Ryan’s confidence. I wish I could lean into things I know I’m not spectacular at but think I’d enjoy anyway. And Trent Ryan did it on camera, in front of thousands of people watching in person, and even more on YouTube.
For years, I’ve avoided teeing it up on camera for work. In fact, I’ve avoided playing golf at all. I’ve turned down invites that my family and friends would kill for with people I’d love to share a deeper connection with. And it’s all because I know I’m not a good golfer. I know that people online are going to make fun of my swing. I know people will be surprised to see that I still can’t figure the sport out, despite the thousands of hours I’ve spent around it. Instead, I’ve tried to hide it and lean into things I know I can do pretty easily (like eating ice cream with professional golfers on The Scoop).
It takes guts to know you’re not going to be the best and show up anyway. And it paid off because Trent is a crowd favorite. People love him even more after carding an 11 on the iconic par-3 17th at TPC Sawgrass.
Turns out, Trent’s 29-over-par total at the Creator Classic has encouraged me to be vulnerable. He loves golf, and people love watching him play. The excitement fans had when Ryan finally hit the green was probably greater than it would’ve been if he’d hit the green on his first try. And that fact made me fall in love with YouTube Golf fans. They’re not yelling rude things at the players after a bad shot the way some drunken fans do at PGA Tour events. Their support grows with every shot that lands in the water.
As I headed back into the media center at the end of the Creator Classic, I was pleasantly surprised by how much fun I’d had. If this event had occurred a year ago, I probably wouldn’t have attended. I’d have said something like “it’s not my thing,” and that would’ve been the end of it.
So maybe you’re like me. Maybe the idea of making yourself vulnerable in front of the entire world is terrifying. Or maybe the scope of your fear is much smaller: you’re intimidated to watch a sporting event with your friends because you don’t know anything about the athletes (this also happens to me every year when I watch the Super Bowl). On Wednesday, I learned that on the other side of that fear is a really, really great time. And maybe even a standing ovation.
