“Millions, Fame, and Silence — The 10 Golfers Who Took LIV Money and Vanished Without a Trace”

 

When the Saudi-backed LIV Golf League launched in 2022, it lured some of the sport’s biggest names with staggering paychecks.

LIV’s Biggest Busts: 10 Golfers Who Cashed In and Vanished

Phil Mickelson, Dustin Johnson, Brooks Koepka — men who once defined golf’s golden era — suddenly traded tradition for fortune.

It was controversial, divisive, and utterly captivating.

For a while, it felt like golf’s version of the Super League — flashier, louder, richer.

But as seasons passed, something strange happened: the energy evaporated.

Crowds thinned.

TV ratings flatlined.

And the players who once strutted across fairways with the swagger of rebels faded into quiet irrelevance.

So where are they now? And why did so many of LIV’s biggest names disappear as quickly as they appeared? Let’s take a look at the ten golfers who took the money — and the mystique — and vanished.

1.Phil Mickelson — The Fallen King
He was LIV’s loudest voice, the face of its rebellion.

Once adored as golf’s charming underdog, Phil Mickelson shocked fans when he joined LIV for a reported $200 million.

U.S. Open live updates: Phil Mickelson birdies 18th to tie for lead - Los Angeles Times

His career seemed destined for one last act of glory — instead, it spiraled.

The spark faded, his form collapsed, and the controversies piled up.

These days, he’s seen less on leaderboards and more on social media, tweeting cryptic reflections about “freedom” and “truth.

” But behind the words is a simple reality: the game left him behind.

2.Dustin Johnson — The Quiet Millionaire
At his peak, Johnson was unstoppable — a two-time major winner with ice in his veins.

But after signing with LIV, his drive seemed to vanish.

Dustin Johnson quits PGA Tour to join LIV Golf series for a reported $150 million - MarketWatch

He won early on, pocketed millions, and then drifted into silence.

“DJ doesn’t care about legacy,” one former teammate said.

“He’s rich, happy, and done trying.

” The swagger remains, but the hunger? Gone.

3.Bryson DeChambeau — The Scientist Who Short-Circuited
He arrived in LIV like a human headline — golf’s mad scientist, armed with physics and ego.

Bryson Dechambeau - Mad Scientist has been in the lab and has emerged stronger than ever - Sport360 News

But since joining, Bryson’s game has imploded.

Injuries, inconsistency, and exhaustion from the spotlight have turned him into a ghost of his former self.

The man who once promised to “revolutionize golf” now struggles to even make a dent in the LIV standings.

4.Brooks Koepka — The Reluctant Rebel
Koepka never seemed comfortable with LIV.

He took the money, yes, but the swagger faded quickly.

Brooks Koepka issues pointed LIV Golf defence after rebel players' Masters showings - Mirror Online

Injuries haunted him, his motivation dipped, and the defiant glare that once defined him softened.

“I made my choice,” he said once, “and I’ll live with it.

” These days, he plays sporadically, as if waiting for the next chapter — or maybe just a way back home.

5.Patrick Reed — The Villain No One Wanted
If golf needed a bad guy, Patrick Reed was perfect for the role — until LIV made him irrelevant.

Once a fiery competitor, now he’s barely a footnote.

Patrick Reed fires back at critics after LIV Golf became PGA Tour 'villain'

The crowds that once booed him at Augusta don’t even bother anymore.

“He wanted to prove something,” one analyst said.

“Now no one’s watching.

6.Ian Poulter — The Showman Who Lost the Stage
The man once known as the heartbeat of Europe’s Ryder Cup team took LIV’s offer and, in doing so, vanished from the soul of the sport.

Ian Poulter Loses PGA Tour Card After Missing Texas Open Cut | Golf Monthly

His passion, his color, his fire — all dulled by the weight of controversy.

Poulter now spends more time designing clothes than competing, his trademark roar replaced by polite smiles.

7.Sergio García — The Unfinished Story
For years, Sergio fought for redemption — and found it at the 2017 Masters.

But LIV ended that story.

“He just stopped caring,” said one friend.

Sergio Garcia Withdrew From Tournament Over Ryder Cup Snub

The Spaniard who once wore his heart on his sleeve now seems adrift, playing for money, not memory.

The fire that once burned in his eyes is gone — replaced by something colder, quieter.

8.Lee Westwood — The Loyal Soldier Who Faded Away
One of golf’s most respected veterans, Westwood joined LIV to secure his final payday.

He called it “a business decision,” but it became a farewell to the fans who had adored him for decades.

The Englishman now plays occasionally, but even he admits, “It’s not the same.

” His name, once synonymous with European grit, now barely registers.

9.

Henrik Stenson — The Captain Who Lost His Crown
No story symbolized the cost of LIV more than Henrik Stenson’s.

Named Ryder Cup captain, he gave it all up for a paycheck.

The move stunned the golf world — and cost him his legacy.

“He traded history for money,” one commentator said.

His game, like his reputation, never recovered.

10.

Talor Gooch — The Mystery Millionaire
Gooch was supposed to be the next big American breakout.

Instead, he became LIV’s quietest millionaire.

Winning early but disappearing later, he became a ghost of the man who once dreamed of PGA greatness.

The money came fast — the relevance disappeared faster.

For all its promises, LIV Golf became something no one predicted: a gilded cage.

Its stars, once symbols of rebellion, found themselves trapped in a league that offered wealth but no legacy, comfort but no competition.

The crowds are smaller.

The headlines fewer.

The silence deafening.

“LIV took away what made these players great,” said one former PGA insider.

“They stopped chasing greatness.

They started chasing comfort.

And comfort kills hunger.”

Even those who once defended the league have grown quiet.

The tournaments, despite the glitz, feel eerily hollow.

Fans watch, but without passion.

The stakes are gone, the rivalries erased.

And the players? They got what they wanted — money, freedom, control.

But as the seasons drag on, one truth becomes clear: in trading legacy for luxury, they didn’t just lose the game.

They lost themselves.

LIV Golf will be remembered for many things — disruption, controversy, change.

But for the golfers who took the leap, it might also be remembered as the moment their fire went out.

They cashed in.

They vanished.

And in the quiet that followed, golf — and perhaps they themselves — were never quite the same again.