Golf Culture
Golf Culture
Four hours, no phones, no pitch decks. Why the introductions that actually move a business happen between the first tee and the last green.
A conference gives you ninety seconds and a lanyard. A round of golf gives you four hours, eighteen shared problems, and no way to hide how you handle any of them.
That is the entire thesis, and it is not sentimental. Golf is the only business setting left with real duration. You cannot leave at the turn. You cannot glance at your phone without everyone noticing. The format forces the thing that every networking event is trying and failing to manufacture: enough time for people to stop performing.
It is also unusually revealing. You find out how somebody behaves after a bad hole. You find out whether they count their own strokes honestly when there is no reason to. You find out if they are the kind of person who talks through your backswing. None of that shows up in a reference call, and all of it predicts what they will be like as a partner.
The mistake most brands make is treating golf as an ad placement — a logo on a flag, a banner behind a leaderboard. That buys impressions in a setting built for conversations. The value is not the eyeballs. It is the four hours.
Which is why the Golf Execs field is curated rather than sold. The guest list is the product. Once you start filling foursomes with whoever paid, you have a tournament. Keep it deliberate and you have a room that people rearrange their week to be in.
The last point Matt makes is the one worth stealing: nobody closes on the course. You close the following Tuesday, because on the course you finally became somebody worth calling.
Fields are capped and curated. If you want a place, tell us who you are and what you are working on.
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