Golf’s elite have never had it so good – but cashing in comes at a price | Ewan Murray

TThe problem with meaningless answers is that you will never meet any of the hundred people interviewed. Still, the quiz show probably offers as valuable an insight into the attitudes of the British public as anything else in these crazy times.

A few weeks ago, Alexander Armstrong showed off familiar faces with names related to flowers. What happened next was quite frightening for those who want golf to win hearts and minds.

Only six of those surveyed identified Justin Rose: major champion, Englishman, Olympic gold medalist and a player who has received quite a bit of attention for his admirable creation of a women's golf series. He has little reason to worry about what's happening on daytime television or his irrelevance compared to Lily Allen, but this was the last grim reminder of the bubble in which golf operates.

Viktor Hovland did not consider it necessary to appear at a press conference prior to the Hero World Challenge. This was strange considering he was the defending champion. Perhaps the Norwegian was counting his money; Heading into the Bahamas event, he had amassed $37,112,235 (approximately £29 million) in 2023 PGA Tour earnings. He's a fantastic golfer and a nice guy, but he's hardly a needle mover. His pre-approval salary would put him in the top 10 in Major League Baseball.

Golf is in serious danger of losing the plot, if it hasn't already. Claiming that athletes are paid too much is like pointing out that Wednesday follows Tuesday, but golfers' rights have become somewhat alarming. When Jon Rahm is linked to a move to LIV, reportedly for hundreds of millions of dollars, the deal is immediately credible. This is what golf has become, a sport where once finding the bottom of the hole was the key to everything. Those within – and not just players, this applies to managers, caddies, coaches – have a distorted sense of self-worth. This existed before LIV, which only accelerated things. Tensions exist within the PGA Tour as some rank and file members feel they are underpaid. Pure sport, this is not.

Hovland's wedge came in part from his part in the player impact program, an elaborate scheme created by the PGA Tour when LIV and its Saudi Arabian riches were first circulating. Rory McIlroy topped this year's chart, which rewards players for bringing their attention to the tour, earning $15 million. Tiger Woods, who did not play between April and November, was paid $12 million. Think of the Premier League giving Erling Haaland a big bonus for kindly showing up for work.

No amount of money makes a difference to McIlroy or Woods at this stage and the duo are the instantly recognizable faces of their sport, but the size of these payments is still considered obscene by many. “Progolf is a one-way street to nowhere,” said DP World Tour player Eddie Pepperell. “It has gone crazy, and I have lost my respect and love for it.” If the public also recognizes vulgarity, golf has a serious problem.

Jordan Spieth, who received $7 million from the player impact program, was somewhat shy when assessing its significance. “I think the goal was to prevent players from accepting high-dollar Saudi offers, LIV offers,” he said. “When you see numbers being thrown at players now, some specific players, it doesn't really add up.

“I think it was pretty unanimous, including from those of us who have benefited significantly from it, to phase it out and find a way to spread those funds elsewhere to, ideally, support fields and pockets so that you can still You can always benefit individually, but by finding the right 'sweet spot'. I know it will drop by half next year. I'm not sure what that will look like after that. Hopefully it doesn't have to exist, I think that's the best way to say it, and I think that will make everyone happy.”

Spieth's point is supported by tournament prizes; the Players Championship is now worth $25 million, the Phoenix Open $20 million and mundane tour stops leave players competing for almost $9 million.

Debate over whether or not golf balls should be “rolled back” is the epitome of boredom. At least it was, until McIlroy walked in. On Wednesday, the R&A will announce adjustments to the ball to try to rein in the distance leading players can reach. This was opposed, when originally suggested, by equipment manufacturers and some of McIlroy's colleagues.

McIlroy is among those who believe the ball doesn't need to be adjusted for anyone outside the elite level. “Demerger was the logical answer for everyone,” he said. “But then again, in this game money talks.” Again, it starts with ag and rhymes with creed. When the R&A outlines its plans, the bleating and whining of certain elements of the game will all too typically be with the ultimate goal, and not the good of the sport, in mind.

The clock is now ticking on whether a deal can be struck between the established golf tours and the Saudi Public Investment Fund. The Fenway Sports Group has also approached a partnership with the tour. Something like this is necessary, not only to ward off the threats that LIV poses, but also to enable long-term sustainability. Golfers have never had it so good. This is at the expense of reputation.