After a few minutes of talking, our Uber pulled up to the entrance and the driver said, “Oh, it’s a golf course. I thought Grass Clippings was a dispenser or something. That’s cool.”
So … the Grass League isn’t as popular (yet) as the Phoenix area’s other minor tournament, the Waste Management Open. But based on what I saw — and what the Grass League is trying to build — that gap may be narrowing faster than anyone expects.
We recently published an article on MyGolfSpy about what the Grass League is. I had been to their Summer Grind tour this year at Goat Hill Park in Oceanside, California, but friends who had gone to the Grass Clippings event told me, “It’s totally different. You have to see it there.” And then MyGolfSpy needed someone to cover the championship. So I raised my hand.
Full disclosure: I’m not a huge fan of attending professional golf events. I love watching great players up close, but the fan experience at most tournaments feels pretty sterile. Lots of “Please stand still”, “Please be quiet” and (unspoken) “Please don’t have fun”. So when I was asked to go to Phoenix strictly as a fan and I report, I was really excited.
Before boarding the flight, I sat down — virtually — with league co-founders Jimmy Hoselton and Pete Wilson. I expected a quick, procedural conversation. Instead, I got passion, storytelling, and a level of “holy hell, this thing is growing fast” energy that could power the spotlights at Grass Clippings.
The first thing that hit me? The scale.
“We had 216 players competing for 25 qualifying spots,” Hoselton said casually, as if that wasn’t a borderline wild number for a league that didn’t even exist a few years ago.
Then Wilson jumped in: “When Wyndham Clark came on the stage and announced a draft, it felt like the NFL draft. Guys were tearing up. This is a huge opportunity for them.”
Then my brain went: OK, this is not a novelty tour. This is a movement.
Hoselton put it even more bluntly when he talks about players who qualify, get drafted… and then don’t make the next lineup.
“Welcome to the sport. Guys get drafted, show up to camp and get cut. It’s real. It matters. And the players feel it.”
Then they told me about Andrew Augustiniak – who basically stumbled into the Grass League by accident, got drafted and is now playing alongside Charlie Beljan with a small army of fans following him. Wilson said, “He didn’t even really know what the Grass League was last year. Now he says it’s changed his golf, his family, his life.”
That’s when I realized they weren’t building just another “fun format” golf championship. They’re building a pipeline for trust — for players who never expected to have a legitimate scene, a franchise that supports them, or actual fans who show up in team gear.
(And, yes, there was plenty of team merchandise circulating all weekend. You could honestly feel the fandom forming in real time.)
Our conversation kept turning to bonding, mentoring and belonging – things that golf traditionally struggles with.
Wilson summed it up perfectly: “Owning a franchise and going to find golfers for your roster. I honestly can’t think of a cooler thing.”
At the end of the call, they admitted that their email inboxes would essentially cease to exist during Championship week. Hoselton even offered to text and meet in the field. That told me all I needed to know about how much they really love the energy around this thing.
Before we hung up, Hoselton said something that stuck with me: “Under the lights at Grass Clippings is a different beast.”
So, yes. If I wasn’t completely sold before the call, I definitely was after it.
When I arrived, I picked up my badge and made a beeline through the food truck area (eight to 10 trucks and plenty of seating), then grabbed a local IPA from the outside bar. The music was blasting, the crowd swelled as we approached the 4.30pm gun and the atmosphere was electric.
One thing was immediately clear: the demographic was younger and trendier than a typical PGA Tour event. Even at the laid-back Farmers Insurance Open in San Diego, you’ll see closed polos and quarter chains. Not here. This crowd came dressed—Malbon, Devereu, and many outfits that lived at the intersection of golf, streetwear, and “I’m definitely being photographed today.”
The bar sits next to the green and since the first round was a shotgun start, the green was buzzing – players, corpses, coaches and, yes, many influencers. I know it might rub some people the wrong way, but honestly? I think it’s good for the game. “Covid golfers” and creators have brought new energy and new fans. And based on the sheer number of people I recognized from Instagram, they were out in force and having a blast.
After about 20 minutes, one word kept popping into my head: accessibility. Players taking pictures, talking to fans, even sharing a drink. It made me wonder how seriously they all take the competition (more on that later), but the immediacy and interaction compared to a traditional tournament event hit me like a ton of bricks.
I grabbed another beer and ran into Wilson who was getting ready to go to the booth as one of two keynote speakers for the event (Paige Spiranac was the other). His enthusiasm? Off the charts. Even in the chaos, he took the time to say he was glad we were there and told me to text if we needed anything. If a league reflects its leadership, the Grass League is in great hands.
We headed out on the 18th for the opening ceremonies and the production value surprised me – in a good way. Bars everywhere. Many bathrooms. Stands erected around the course. A full concert-level stage (“Live at the Clubhouse”) where Midland and BigXThaPlug would later perform. It felt like one big event on a smaller footprint.
The teams were introduced by a raucous emcee, a marching band played the national anthem, and suddenly it felt more like the start of a title fight than a golf tournament. Not sure about golf NEEDS a ring announcer but, hey, it was definitely on brand.
Once the game started, we wandered and soaked in the atmosphere. As the sun went down and the lights came on, the course took on a completely different energy. Since the course is a compact par-3 course with desert areas between holes, it’s incredibly easy to walk and see tons of shots. And while most of the players aren’t household names (yet), the golf itself? Really, really good.
These guys understand the moment. They get the format. And they understand that Grass League lives somewhere between competition and content — without either turning into a joke.
There were tweets. The good kind. Teammates give each other grief after a missed shot. Raw reactions to big hits. Players are happy to be seen and engage with fans and creators. It felt like organized chaos with a scoreboard, and I mean that in the best possible way.
The field was packed with former PGA Tour and Korn Ferry players, All-Americans, US Am competitors and pros from around the world. If you want to see legal golf from 10 yards away, the Grass League has you covered.
As the crowds grew and the lights went full blast, we got food from a truck. At that point, you could feel the energy shifting toward the Midland concert after the round. Not in a bad way – the atmosphere felt like a perfect mix of “watch great golf” and “be at a party”.
I talked to fans who were new to the game or were introducing friends to golf and the theme was the same: This is really fun.
It felt like a big, relaxed party that happened to have a golf tournament in the middle of it.
After a long day of travel we called it a night and I was excited to see how round 2 would feel with the title on the line.
The next day there was another noise. Real tee times. A slightly quieter practice green as the driving range was being used for parking and players were hitting balls on the local courses beforehand. And the kick? The final round was being broadcast live on the Golf Channel.
When the local DJ’s music cut out and the broadcast audio went live, the crowd went wild. See Ricky Barnes taunting Brandel Chamblee on TV while standing just feet away? It felt legitimately huge.
We grabbed a beer (I know, shocker) and headed out. The traditional practice times really made it feel more like a “real” tournament. And the par-3 scramble format? I’m planting a flag: it’s great.
Quickly. Aggressive. Full of birds. And the smaller footprint means you’re constantly surrounded by the action instead of walking miles to see four shots.
We followed the leaders, spun around when several teams ahead caught fire, and eventually caught up with the brother-sister duo of Ryan and Gabby Ruffels, who were cooking. Eight birds in nine heads. At one point, Ryan’s caddy said he was running to grab a beer before nine others. League of Bari in one sentence.
Walking around the lighted course at night brought me back to night golfing as a kid—Newport Beach (aka Matty Newps) and David L. Baker Golf Course in Southern California, hanging with friends—all of it. And I’d be lying if I said we didn’t immediately start talking about trying to qualify next year. A man can dream.
Then came the Grass League moment of the weekend.
On the 15th, both main groups (the Ruffels siblings and the Drew Stoltz/Drew Kittleson team of the Minnesota Muskies) missed the green and the MC rallied the crowd to berate them for being the first groups to miss the surface. The players laughed and then Stoltz, co-host of the popular Subpar Podcast, buried a 40-foot putt. His caddy turned to the crowd and gave the “shhh” sign. i will never I don’t want that move.
Not to be outdone, Ryan Ruffels stepped up and confidently dropped a powerbomb of his own and ran into a fist pump and high five. You can’t fake that kind of emotion and the crowd ate it up.
We went out on 18 to finish. Gabby Ruffels birdied, the last group just missed a chance to equalize and the LA Roses celebrated as champions.
Heading back towards the green (and the massive BigXThaPlug crowd gathering on stage), I chatted with Phoenix United’s Will Kropp, his wife Morgan and their son Ollie, who was decked out in team gear. Will said: “It’s really cool to compete with these guys and be involved in building the league. Everyone cares so much and you can really feel the excitement.”
And he was right. Everyone from the founders to the players to the fans to the bartenders felt all in.
I left before the concert (because I’m old), but as I left, I realized that I had just been part of a shared experience with a community that didn’t quite know what it was looking for, but still found something special.
I went in with no expectations and left thinking about the future of the league, the players, the franchises and the fans who are just starting to pick sides.
Next time, I’ll pick a team.
Post Grass League: How It Changed My View of Golf appeared first on MyGolfSpy.
