Kooyonga and the $70,000 Bill: When LIV Golf Turned a Golf Course Into a Creditor

I still remember that afternoon. Not for the applause, but for the silence. Kooyonga lay still under the Adelaide sun, and in the club's office, a stack of papers was waiting to be signed. It was October 2026. The club's leadership had just agreed to let their golf course become the host of LIV Adelaide 2027, an event under the LIV Golf system. In the meeting room, everyone was smiling. No one knew that ten months later, those very papers would become one of the most painful pieces of evidence of a sports business model's collapse.

That day, I sat in the third row of the Kooyonga stands, watching a group of club staff re-measure the area around the first tee box. They were careful to an unusual degree. An older man, perhaps a long-serving greenkeeper, bent down to pick up a small pebble and put it in his pocket. I wondered: was he preserving a fragment of the course's memory, or preparing for a future he himself was not sure would come? Ten months later, when I read the news that LIV Golf had filed for bankruptcy, I understood that the pebble might be the only souvenir Kooyonga would keep from a deal that was never completed.

The story of Kooyonga Golf Club is not the story of a golf course that lost money. It is the story of a creditor trapped in a chain of decisions it could not control. And within that story lies a larger lesson about how modern sports events are built, funded, and sometimes destroyed.

Context: An event built from oil money

To understand what happened to Kooyonga, we need to go back to the birth of LIV Golf. In 2026, the Saudi Arabia Public Investment Fund (PIF) announced the creation of a new golf tour with an almost unlimited budget. LIV Golf was designed to compete directly with the PGA Tour: fewer rounds, higher prize money, team format, and most importantly, no cuts. Big stars signed one after another: Phil Mickelson, Dustin Johnson, Brooks Koepka, Bryson DeChambeau, and later Jon Rahm, reportedly for more than $500 million.

In its early phase, LIV Golf expanded rapidly. Events were held in London, Portland, Bedminster, Chicago, Jeddah, Miami, and Adelaide. Kooyonga in Adelaide was among the first venues chosen. For Australian fans, LIV Golf was a rare chance to see the world's top stars play on home soil, while the PGA Tour usually only visited Sydney or Melbourne with unofficial events. LIV Golf Adelaide quickly became one of the system's most successful events, attracting tens of thousands of spectators each day.

But success on the course does not equal success on the balance sheet. LIV Golf has never published specific revenue figures. Independent estimates suggest the tour burns hundreds of millions of dollars a year, while revenue from broadcast rights, sponsorship, and ticket sales covers only a small fraction of costs. This model could only survive thanks to a single source: PIF money.

By 2026, the situation changed. According to published sources, Saudi Arabia's new financial strategy called for ending funding for LIV Golf. This was not a sudden decision. For years, analysts had pointed out that LIV Golf had no clear path to self-sufficiency. Cutting funding was the inevitable consequence of a business model that had never found its footing.

What is notable is the timing. Kooyonga signed its term sheet with LIV Golf around April 2026, six months before Saudi Arabia officially announced its new financial strategy. In other words, Kooyonga committed to hosting an event based on a funding assumption that was later invalidated. This is the crux: the golf course was not wrong. It signed a contract with an entity that appeared solid. But that entity was sitting on a financial time bomb.

Kooyonga: The golf course and four blocked months

Kooyonga Golf Club is not an ordinary golf course. Located west of Adelaide, about 10 km from the city center, it is one of Australia's oldest and most prestigious courses. Designed in the sandbelt style, Kooyonga is famous for its deep bunkers, fast greens, and strategic challenges that demand absolute precision. The course has hosted the Australian Open and many other international events. For the Australian golf community, Kooyonga is part of the heritage.

When LIV Golf chose Kooyonga as the venue for LIV Adelaide 1.0, the club welcomed the opportunity. The event brought revenue from ticket sales, hospitality, and most importantly, international prestige. For a golf course wanting to assert its place on the world golf map, hosting an event featuring Jon Rahm, Brooks Koepka, or Cameron Smith was an opportunity not to be missed.

But hosting a LIV event is not like hosting an ordinary PGA Tour event. The contract between Kooyonga and LIV Golf included an important clause: the course had to block its schedule for the first four months of 2027. This meant that from January to April, Kooyonga could not host any other event. No amateur golf tournaments, no weddings, no corporate conferences. The club's entire business activity was compressed into the remaining eight months of the year.

This was an enormous commitment. For a private golf club, revenue from external events often accounts for a significant portion of the operating budget. Blocking four months affects not only immediate cash flow but also the ability to maintain services, pay staff, and maintain facilities. In return, Kooyonga was promised a significant hosting fee, with 50% payable in early July 2026.

That payment never came.

The $70,000 bill and LIV's silence

July 2026 passed. Kooyonga did not receive the 50% payment as agreed. The club's leadership contacted LIV Golf and received a request for extension. According to sources, LIV Golf asked for more time to complete internal financial procedures. Kooyonga agreed but demanded a clear commitment on the payment date.

That commitment was never made. Instead, just days before the new payment deadline, LIV Golf filed for bankruptcy.

For Kooyonga, this was a shock. The club had spent four months preparing for an event that might not happen. They had hired additional staff, upgraded the irrigation system, renovated several greens, and most importantly, turned down numerous other event contracts to keep the calendar clear. The cost of these preparation months was estimated by Kooyonga at about $70,000 per month. This is not a huge figure for a corporation, but for a golf club, it is a significant amount.

What is notable is that Kooyonga did not simply demand money. The club asked LIV Golf to make a clear decision: either continue the contract and pay in full, or terminate the contract so Kooyonga could seek alternative events. In legal language, this is a demand for "assumption or rejection" — acceptance or rejection of the contract under bankruptcy law. Kooyonga did not want to be left hanging. They wanted to know their fate.

The silence from LIV Golf was the most uncomfortable answer. When a debtor does not make a decision, the creditor is trapped in a state of paralysis. Kooyonga could not cancel the contract for fear of losing its rights. It could not continue preparing because costs were rising. And it could not seek alternative events because the calendar was blocked.

LIV 1.0 and LIV 2.0: Two collapses, one model

To understand why Kooyonga was trapped, we need to look at the structure of LIV Golf. In internal terminology, this tour has gone through two phases: LIV 1.0 and LIV 2.0.

LIV 1.0 was the original version: a tour fully funded by PIF, with contracts signed directly with golf courses and athletes. During this phase, LIV Golf did not need to worry about profitability. The only goal was to survive and put pressure on the PGA Tour. Kooyonga was part of LIV 1.0.

LIV 2.0 was the version designed to be self-sustaining after PIF cut funding. Under the plan, LIV Golf would seek a new investment partner — in this case BC Partners, a private equity firm headquartered in London. The deal with BC Partners reportedly includes terms on restructuring the tour, cutting costs, and most importantly, securing commitments from top athletes.

This is the crux: BC Partners is not just investing in LIV Golf. It is investing in a LIV Golf that has Jon Rahm, Brooks Koepka, and other stars. If these athletes do not commit to continuing, the deal collapses. And if the deal collapses, LIV 2.0 will never materialize.

Kooyonga sits at the end of this chain. The golf course has no say in BC Partners' decision. It cannot persuade Jon Rahm to sign a contract. It can only wait — and prepare for an event that may never happen.

The October 13 deadline: The final gate

According to published information, LIV Golf set an October 13 deadline for target athletes to commit to LIV 2.0. This is a precondition for the deal with BC Partners. If not enough top athletes sign, the deal will not be signed.

The problem is that top athletes are not in a hurry. Jon Rahm, reportedly LIV 2.0's number one target, gave an ambiguous answer: "There's a long legal process [LIV has] to go through before a lot of things fall into place... I really can't give you an answer right now."

This is a notable answer. Rahm did not say "no." He did not say "yes." He is keeping his options open. In the context of his contract with LIV Golf potentially being in question, staying silent is the most rational strategy. But for Kooyonga, that silence is a sentence.

If Rahm — one of the biggest beneficiaries of LIV — is uncertain about his future, other athletes have even more reason to wait. And as more wait, the October 13 deadline becomes harder to meet.

The irony is that LIV Golf was designed to attract stars with money. But when the money runs out, the tour has nothing left to offer. No heritage like the PGA Tour, no world ranking system, no path to the majors. Once PIF stops spending, LIV Golf becomes a tour with no reason to exist.

Lessons from the unnamed creditors

Kooyonga is the only creditor mentioned in this story, but it is almost certainly not the only one. According to information from bankruptcy filings, LIV Golf has a long list of entities owed money: other golf courses, TV production companies, catering providers, transport companies, and more.

What is notable is that Kooyonga is described as "unique" among the other creditors. This uniqueness may lie in the size of the contract, the level of publicity, or the fact that Kooyonga was one of the first courses booked for LIV 2.0. But whatever the reason, the existence of a long creditor list shows that LIV Golf had not paid many partners for months.

This is a familiar pattern in major bankruptcies: businesses with cash flow problems delay payments to small suppliers first, while trying to maintain operations with large partners. Courses like Kooyonga sit in the middle: large enough to have a formal contract, but not large enough to have negotiating leverage.

The lesson here is not just about LIV Golf. It is about how new sports events are built. When an event is funded by a single source — whether PIF, a billionaire, or a corporation — every partner in the supply chain is betting on the survival of that funding source. When the funding disappears, not only does the event collapse. An entire ecosystem of small and medium businesses collapses with it.

A contrarian angle: This collapse is not LIV's failure

There is a common reading of the LIV Golf story: this is the collapse of a tour built on oil money, an unsustainable business model, a failure of ambition. This reading is not wrong, but it misses an important point.

What is notable is not that LIV Golf failed. What is notable is that LIV Golf survived as long as it did. Over four years, this tour spent billions of dollars, signed dozens of stars, organized dozens of events worldwide, and created a real threat to the PGA Tour. If PIF had continued funding, LIV Golf could have survived for many more years.

LIV's collapse is not a failure of the model. It is the failure of a political decision. Saudi Arabia did not stop funding LIV because the tour was losing money. They stopped funding because they decided that the benefits of continuing no longer justified the cost. This is a strategic decision, not a market failure.

And this is the most important contrarian point: partners like Kooyonga did not fail because they made a wrong decision. They failed because they had no control over the decisive variable. They signed a contract with an entity that appeared strong, and in most cases, they were right. LIV Golf successfully hosted the Adelaide event for years. Only when a political decision in Riyadh changed everything did their contract become worthless.

This has important implications for all participants in the sports industry. When you sign a contract with a new tour, you are not just betting on that tour's organizational capability. You are betting on the stability of the entire financial ecosystem behind it. And in the case of LIV Golf, that ecosystem depended on one country.

The ripple effect: When golf courses lose trust

LIV Golf's collapse will leave long-lasting scars on the golf industry. One of the biggest scars is the trust of golf courses in new tours.

Before LIV Golf, hosting an international golf event was considered a relatively safe business opportunity. Tours like the PGA Tour, DP World Tour, or the majors have decades of history and stable funding. When a golf course signs a contract with one of these tours, it can trust that the event will take place.

LIV Golf changed that. When a new tour appears with deep pockets and the promise of an international event, golf courses will now have to think more carefully. They will demand better protective terms: upfront deposits, penalty clauses if the event is cancelled, and most importantly, a contingency plan if funding disappears.

This will increase costs for new tours. A tour without history will have to pay more to convince golf courses to accept risk. In an industry where margins are already thin, this can be a barrier to innovation.

But there is a positive side. LIV Golf's collapse may force new tours to build more sustainable business models from the start. Instead of relying on a single funding source, they will have to seek multiple revenue streams: broadcast rights, sponsorship, ticket sales, and most importantly, local community support.

Rahm and the question of loyalty

In this whole story, the most notable figure is perhaps Jon Rahm. He is the biggest beneficiary of LIV Golf, with a contract reportedly worth more than $500 million. He is also the one with the most options. If LIV 2.0 collapses, Rahm can return to the PGA Tour, where he is still welcome. He can compete in the majors as a former champion. He can continue his career without serious damage.

But Rahm's answer — "I really can't give you an answer right now" — is not just about strategy. It is also about a more philosophical question: where does an athlete's loyalty lie?

When Rahm signed with LIV Golf, he gave up his position on the PGA Tour, gave up the chance to compete in the Ryder Cup, and gave up part of his legacy. He exchanged those things for money. Now, when LIV Golf has no money left, does he have an obligation to stay? Or does he have the right to leave?

There is no right answer. But how Rahm handles this situation will affect how other athletes view their contracts. If Rahm leaves, others will follow. If Rahm stays, perhaps LIV 2.0 has a chance to survive.

What is notable is that Rahm has not given any clear signal. He is waiting — like Kooyonga, like all the other creditors. The only difference is that Rahm has more time. He can wait until the situation is clear. Kooyonga cannot.

BC Partners: Savior or successor?

One of the biggest questions in this story is the role of BC Partners. This private equity firm is negotiating to invest in LIV Golf, but the nature of the deal has not been fully disclosed.

BC Partners could be buying equity, providing rescue financing, or even taking over LIV Golf's operations. Each of these scenarios has different implications for Kooyonga and other creditors.

If BC Partners buys equity and continues to operate LIV Golf, Kooyonga's contract may be preserved. If BC Partners only provides rescue financing, LIV Golf may have to cut costs more aggressively, including cancelling events. If BC Partners takes over and restructures, Kooyonga may become part of a completely different system.

What is notable is that BC Partners is a private equity firm, not a sovereign wealth fund. This means they are accountable to their investors, not to a political strategy. If they invest in LIV Golf, they will demand a clear path to profitability. And that path may not include continuing to fund golf courses like Kooyonga with generous fees.

Future scenarios: What will happen to Kooyonga?

There are three main scenarios for Kooyonga.

Worst-case scenario: LIV Golf rejects the contract in the bankruptcy process. The March 2027 event is cancelled. Kooyonga recovers only a fraction of the $70,000 per month in preparation costs. The four blocked months become pure loss.

Neutral scenario: LIV Golf assumes the contract, but on renegotiated terms. The event takes place, but with a lower fee or extended payment timeline. Kooyonga absorbs the working capital cost.

Optimistic scenario: LIV Golf assumes the contract and pays in full. The club preserves both its LIV 1.0 legacy and its LIV 2.0 hosting rights.

In all three scenarios, Kooyonga loses the most important thing: certainty. Even in the optimistic scenario, the club will have to think carefully before signing a similar contract in the future. Trust has been damaged, and trust is the hardest thing to rebuild in business.

Lessons for Vietnamese sports

From Vietnam, the Kooyonga story may seem distant. We do not have a professional golf tour of international caliber, we do not have golf courses invested in by sovereign wealth funds, and we do not have athletes with hundred-million-dollar contracts.

But the lessons can be applied.

When a new sports event is organized in Vietnam — whether football, golf, or any other sport — partners are often attracted by promises of money and prestige. Stadiums, sponsors, and local organizers often sign contracts based on the belief that the event will succeed. But if the main funding source disappears, who will be held responsible?

The answer is: the most vulnerable. Small service providers, contract workers, and local communities — those who bet on an event that may never happen.

The lesson from Kooyonga is: sports contracts need protective clauses for all parties, not just the organizer. Deposits, penalty clauses, and contingency plans should be standard, not exceptional. Otherwise, we will continue to see stories like Kooyonga — unnamed creditors, trapped between decisions they cannot control.

What is really at stake?

When I sat at Kooyonga in October 2026, I thought about the future of golf. LIV Golf was supposed to change the sport forever. It would bring more money to athletes, more opportunities to golf courses, and more choices to fans.

Ten months later, I realized that LIV Golf did change golf, but not in the way anyone expected. It showed that even tours with unlimited pockets can collapse. It showed that sports contracts can become worthless after a single political decision. And it showed that in the world of professional sports, the most vulnerable are often the ones who lose the most.

Kooyonga will survive. This golf course has been there for over 100 years, and it will continue to be there after LIV Golf disappears. But the story of the $70,000 bill will be remembered. Not as a story about a golf course's failure, but as a story about how modern sports events are built — and sometimes destroyed.

Takeaway: Sport as a common language

Throughout my career, I have witnessed many sports events come and go. I have seen champion athletes rise and be forgotten. I have seen stadiums built and abandoned. But I have never seen a golf course become a creditor of a tour.

This makes me think about the relationship between sport and business. For decades, sport has been commercialized to the point where the two concepts are hard to separate. Tours are not just competitions; they are products. Athletes are not just players; they are assets. And golf courses are not just venues; they are business partners.

But when everything is business, what happens when business fails? The answer is: those who believed in the sport lose out. Golf courses like Kooyonga believed they were participating in a sports project. It turned out they were participating in an investment project. And when the investment project failed, nothing protected them.

Perhaps this is the biggest lesson from the LIV Golf story. Sport is a common language, but money is another language. And when these two languages conflict, which one wins?

I do not have the answer. But I know that on an October afternoon in 2026, at Kooyonga, an older greenkeeper picked up a pebble and put it in his pocket. He did not know he was preparing for a future in which his golf course might no longer be part of a major tour. But perhaps he sensed something. Perhaps he knew that in sport, as in life, the smallest things are often the only things we keep.