Mud Balls Steal the Show at PGA Championship Opening Round
In an era of LIV Golf drama and astronomical purses, the top storyline from Day 1 at the PGA Championship was… mud on golf balls. Yes, really.
Before dismissing this as millionaire golfers whining about dirty golf balls, consider what happened Thursday at Quail Hollow when Mother Nature collided with golf’s stubborn traditions.
Scottie Scheffler, the game’s best ball-striker and one of its most level-headed champions, didn’t mince words about the conditions:
“When you think about the purest test of golf, I don’t personally think that hitting the ball in the middle of the fairway you should get punished for,” he explained after shooting a 2-under 69, five shots off the lead. “I understand how a golf purist would be, oh, play it as it lies. But I don’t think they understand what it’s like literally working your entire life to learn how to hit a golf ball and control it and hit shots and control distance, and all of a sudden, due to a rules decision, that is completely taken away from us by chance.”
Scheffler quickly reverted to his typical diplomatic self: “I don’t make the rules. I deal with what the rules decisions are.”
His frustration came honestly. On the par-4 16th hole, Scheffler bombed a perfect 322-yard drive down the middle of the fairway. His approach shot from 212 yards then snapped wildly left off his clubface and into the water. Double bogey.
From 200 yards, Scheffler ranks ninth on Tour this season in approach proximity (47-foot average). His wayward approach on 16 missed his intended line by more than 100 feet.
This might have been overlooked if it were isolated. But Xander Schauffele suffered the exact same fate moments later. After a 323-yard drive in the fairway, his mud-covered ball also took a hard left into the water.
“Had a ridiculous mud ball there on 16 with Scottie. We were in the middle of the fairway, and I don’t know, we had to aim right of the grandstands probably,” said Schauffele, who struggled to a 1-over opening round. “It is what it is, and a lot of guys are dealing with it, but it’s just unfortunate to be hitting good shots and to pay them off that way. It’s kind of stupid.”
“Ridiculous” and “stupid” aren’t words you typically hear from the composed Schauffele. Like Scheffler, he usually lets his game do the talking.
Players knew mud would be an issue after days of rain followed by Thursday’s bright, steamy conditions—a textbook recipe for mud balls. The PGA of America also knew, releasing a curiously preemptive statement late Wednesday:
“We do not plan to play preferred lies. The playing surfaces are outstanding and are drying by the hour. We are mowing the fairways this evening.”
Most players weren’t surprised. Kerry Haigh, the PGA’s longtime championship setup guru, has a clear track record, having last allowed preferred lies during the final day of the 2016 PGA Championship at Baltusrol.
When asked this week about his threshold for implementing preferred lies, Haigh said simply: “when you could not have played without doing it.”
At Baltusrol in 2016, they needed to complete both the third and fourth rounds on Sunday to avoid a Monday finish. That apparently meets Haigh’s standard for “extreme circumstances,” not merely the prospect of unpredictable mud balls affecting the world’s best players.
Haigh has earned respect through decades of excellent work, and his decision to uphold golf’s traditions won’t change that. But there’s something off about these priorities. The fundamental goal of major championship setup is to identify the best player. Allowing mud and random chance to have such an outsized voice seems to undermine that purpose.
“I’m not the only guy. I’m just in front of the camera. I wouldn’t want to go in the locker room because I’m sure a lot of guys aren’t super happy,” Schauffele added. “I feel like the grass is so good, there is no real advantage to cleaning your ball in the fairway. The course is completely tipped out. It sucks that you’re kind of 50/50 once you hit the fairway.”
Stephan Jaeger, who shot 67, echoed those sentiments: “I was a little surprised we played it down. We had a bunch of mud balls out there. We all get pretty decent at judging some of the mud stuff, but you’re still hitting 215- to 220-yard 5-irons that you’re trying to figure out the mud, right? It’s hard enough as it is.”
Golf has always involved an element of luck. But watching the world’s #1 and #3 players—Scheffler and Schauffele—endure the wild unpredictability of mud balls at the same high-profile moment feels beyond frustrating. Millionaires complaining about mud might seem trivial, but then so are the antiquated rules that leave the game’s very best so enraged.
