The highlight of golf fandom’s most popular golf tournament of the year

The past 12 months have had a little bit of everything – a career Grand Slam, Ryder Cup chaos and more. As 2026 approaches, our writers look back at the most memorable moments of 2025 and explain why they mattered.
No. 15 – Zero-torque putter movement | No. 14 — ‘Happy Gilmore 2’ suddenly takes golf | No. 13 – Joaquin Niemann’s 2025 major (also relevant in 2026) | Number 12 – JJ Spaun kills Oakmont
News of 2025, No. 11: Online invitation
There’s no way around it: If you want to understand the year in golf, you’ll have to familiarize yourself with the questionable alarm clock habits of the failed professional golfer.
The journey from a year full of opportunity to the most dormant debate that defined golf’s current hold on the Internet begins with Luke Kwon, former PGA Tour champion and current YouTube golf star.
Kwon is one of many major players in golf’s story of the year: YouTube. Again, no doubt i The story of the year on YouTube — The Internet Invitational — Kwon played a very important role: the heel.
When Kwon laid his head down to rest the night before the start of the Internet Invitational, the Good Good Golf star had no way of knowing that he would spend the better part of November facing the wrath of the comment sections. He had no way of knowing what awaited in the corners of the Internet near and far after he had been DQ’d in the opening session of the Internet Invitational for oversleeping. And, it’s safe to say, if Kwon it was necessary knowing the backlash he’d face when the video was finally released, he wasn’t going to follow up his morning snooze by disappointing his 20-handicap partner, the famous Barstool Sports PFT actor.
Every good story needs a bully, and obviously, so does every good golf tournament made for the Internet, the TV show-half-truth, promoter’s golf. By failing to make his tee time for the opening session of the Internet Invitational, Kwon was the spark that ignited the internet fire that became the Internet Invitational.
And without the smash-hit success of the Internet Invitational? Well, I would argue that we will all be confused about the tectonic shift taking place in the golf world by 2025. But I’m moving forward. Let’s not back down.
The idea came naturally. Barstool Sports founder Dave Portnoy looked around the golf creative landscape (influencerverse? internetdom?) and noticed a trend: Dozens of YouTube golf influencers had achieved success with their skills, but they didn’t have a place to gather. Like the pre-tour days of professional golf, online golf was a collection of individuals, and those individuals may prove to be worth more as a whole than the sum of their parts.
Portnoy put together a sponsor (Dunkin’), a host course (Big Cedar Lodge in Missouri), and a dream guest list (everyone from Bob Do Sports to Good). Before long, he had raised enough money to make a compelling offering: A weeklong series featuring the biggest influencers in sports.
But getting a “yes” from his guest list required a deft hand. First, the very fabric of the golf influencerverse is built on the concept of self-determination. The whole point of becoming a YouTube star was that it didn’t require the help of a popular media brand like Barstool. Also, $1 million wasn’t chump change – but it also wasn’t exactly a life-changing amount of money to give to a group whose businesses often earn the same amount themselves. By 2025, Portnoy’s single target (Good) made a fundraising cycle 45 times larger than Portnoy’s winning prize.
Portnoy knew that money and fans weren’t enough to win the YouTube Golf stars he wanted, so he promised something more: attention. By playing in the Internet Invitational, competitors can dominate golf in dead time on the calendar. They could gain the reputation of their competitors, and their overall appearance could reach something that felt powerful … even if the quality of the golf course was not.
Interesting team behavior from Luke Kwon here after falling asleep and missing his tee time in the online invitational. Everyone at home hates Luke Kwon pic.twitter.com/HZlGwjTe9y
– PFT Commenter (@PFTCommenter) October 28, 2025
What followed in the next six episodes and 16 hours of highly curated content is no less a road to modern golf online – a glimpse of how golf on TV has changed from tournaments and awards to entertainment and attention. It’s also a glimpse of what happens when you bring four of the biggest and most exciting voices in pro golf together under one roof: No one in the sport can look away.
Ultimately, the mind-blowing journey of 48 golf content creators vying for a million dollars brought in 25.2 million views on YouTube, tens of millions of impressions across social media and garnered unlimited attention from the greater golf world for over a week. The final episode, which includes the final on-camera appearance of Cody “Beef” Franke (who tragically died shortly after filming), is so gripping that we can’t bear to spoil it, even six weeks later.
But more than any individual achievement — and more than any painful or happy final episode — the Internet Invitational has told us something about the ways golf has changed in 2025. TV deals and tours are no longer the only ways to watch a golf tournament. Professional golfers are no longer the only stars who can capture the attention of the sport. And the world of content creation is no longer a side act in the grand scheme of things. Above all, the Internet Invitational proved that the true power of golf television is in its ability to evoke emotion. outside drama made – and reminded us that golf too no drama or whatever is not golf at all.
As professional golf enters another tumultuous season, the grand tour would be wise to remember the rules that brought YouTube’s astonishing success in 2025: a new playbook for growing audiences, escalating drama and a sincere belief that there is more.
And, if all that is too complicated, perhaps pro golf could take a simple lesson – one that Luke Kwon learned the hard way:
It’s good to have heroes, but it’s better to have heels.



