After a couple minutes of small talk, our Uber pulled up to the entrance and the driver said, “Oh, it’s a golf course. I thought Grass Clippings was a dispensary or something. This is cool.”
So … the Grass League isn’t as well known (yet) as the Phoenix area’s other little tournament, the Waste Management Open. But based on what I saw—and what the Grass League is trying to build—that gap might narrow faster than anyone expects.
We recently ran an article on MyGolfSpy about what the Grass League is all about. I’d been to their Summer Grind tournament this year at Goat Hill Park in Oceanside, Calif., but friends who had gone to the Grass Clippings event told me, “It’s totally different. You’ve gotta see it there.” And then MyGolfSpy needed someone to cover the Championship. So I raised my hand.
Full disclosure: I’m not a huge fan of attending professional golf events. I love watching great players up close but the fan experience at most tournaments feels pretty sterile. A lot of “Please stand still,” “Quiet please” and (the unspoken) “Please don’t have fun.” So when I got asked to head to Phoenix strictly as a fan and report back, I was genuinely excited.
Before hopping on the flight, I sat down—virtually—with league co-founders Jimmy Hoselton and Pete Wilson. I expected a quick, procedural chat. Instead, I got passion, storytelling and a level of “holy hell, this thing is growing fast” energy that could power the floodlights at Grass Clippings.
The first thing that hit me? The scale.
“We had 216 players compete for 25 qualifying spots,” Hoselton said casually, as if that isn’t a borderline outrageous number for a league that didn’t even exist a few years ago.
Then Wilson jumped in: “When Wyndham Clark walked on stage and announced a draft pick, it felt like the NFL draft. Guys were tearing up. This is a huge opportunity for them.”
That’s when my brain went: OK, this isn’t a novelty tour. This is a movement.
Hoselton put it even more bluntly when talking about the players who qualify, get drafted … and then don’t make the next lineup.
“Welcome to sports. Guys get drafted, show up to camp and get cut. It’s real. It matters. And players feel that.”
Then they told me about Andrew Augustiniak—who basically stumbled into Grass League by accident, got drafted and now is playing alongside Charlie Beljan with a small army of fans trailing him. Wilson said, “He didn’t even really know what the Grass League was last year. Now he’s saying it’s changed his golf, his family, his life.”
That’s when I realized they weren’t building just another “fun format” golf league. They’re building a pipeline for belief—for players who never expected to have a legitimate stage, a franchise supporting them or actual fans showing up wearing team gear.
(And, yes, there was plenty of team merch floating around all weekend. You could honestly feel fandom forming in real time.)
Our conversation kept circling back to connection, mentorship, and belonging—things golf traditionally struggles with.
Wilson summed it up perfectly: “Owning a franchise and going out to find golfers for your roster. I honestly can’t think of a cooler thing.”
By the end of the call, they admitted their email inboxes would basically cease to exist during Championship week. Hoselton even offered to text and meet up on the ground. That told me everything I needed to know about how much they genuinely love the energy around this thing.
Before we hung up, Hoselton said something that stuck with me: “Under the lights at Grass Clippings it’s a different beast.”
So, yeah. If I wasn’t fully sold before the call, I definitely was after it.
When I arrived, I grabbed my badge and made a quick beeline through the food truck area (eight to 10 trucks and plenty of seating), then grabbed a local IPA from the outdoor bar. Music was bumping, the crowd grew as we approached the 4:30 p.m. shotgun and the vibe was electric.
One thing was immediately obvious: the demographic skewed younger and trendier than a typical PGA Tour event. Even at the laid-back Farmers Insurance Open in San Diego, you’ll see tucked-in polos and quarter-zips. Not here. This crowd came dressed—Malbon, Devereux and plenty of outfits that lived at the intersection of golf, streetwear and “I’m definitely being photographed today.”
The bar sits next to the putting green and since the first round was a shotgun start, the green was buzzing—players, caddies, coaches and, yes, plenty of influencers. I know that can rub some people the wrong way but honestly? I think it’s good for the game. “COVID golfers” and creators have brought new energy and new fans. And based on the sheer number of people I recognized from Instagram, they were out in force and having a blast.
After about 20 minutes, one word kept popping into my head: accessibility. Players taking pictures, talking with fans, even sharing a drink. It made me wonder how seriously everyone takes the competition (more on that later) but the immediacy and interactivity compared to a traditional tour event hit me like a ton of bricks.
I grabbed another beer and bumped into Wilson who was getting ready to head to the booth as one of the two main announcers for the event (Paige Spiranac being the other). His enthusiasm? Off the charts. Even in the chaos, he made time to say he was glad we were there and told me to text if we needed anything. If a league reflects its leadership, Grass League is in excellent hands.
We headed to 18 for the opening ceremonies and the production value surprised me—in a good way. Bars everywhere. Plenty of bathrooms. Stands set up around the course. A full concert-level stage (“Live at the Clubhouse”) where Midland and BigXThaPlug would perform later. It felt like a big event on a smaller footprint.
Teams were introduced by a hyped-up emcee, a marching band played the national anthem and suddenly it felt more like the start of a title fight than a golf tournament. Not sure golf needs a ring announcer but, hey, it was definitely on brand.
Once play started, we wandered and soaked in the vibe. With the sun going down and the lights coming on, the course took on a completely different energy. Since the track is a compact par-3 course with desert areas in between holes, it’s incredibly easy to walk and see tons of shots. And while most players aren’t household names (yet), the golf itself? Really, really good.
These guys get the moment. They get the format. And they get that Grass League lives somewhere between competition and content—without turning either into a joke.
There was chirping. The good kind. Teammates giving each other grief after a missed putt. Raw reactions to big shots. Players comfortable being seen and engaging with fans and creators. It felt like organized chaos with a scoreboard and I mean that in the best possible way.
The field was stacked with former PGA Tour and Korn Ferry players, All-Americans, U.S. Am competitors and pros from around the world. If you want to see legit golf from 10 feet away, Grass League delivers.
As the crowds grew and the lights fully kicked in, we grabbed food from a truck. By that point, you could feel the energy shifting toward the Midland concert post-round. Not in a bad way—the vibe felt like the perfect mix of “watch great golf” and “be at a party.”
I talked to fans who were new to the game or were introducing friends to golf and the theme was the same: This is really fun.
It felt like one big, relaxed party that happened to have a golf tournament in the middle of it.
After a long travel day, we called it a night and I was excited to see how Round 2 would feel with the title on the line.
The next day had a different buzz. Real tee times. A slightly quieter practice green since the range was being used for parking and players were hitting balls at local courses beforehand. And the kicker? The final round was being broadcast live on Golf Channel.
When the on-site DJ music cut out and the broadcast audio went live, the crowd perked up. Seeing Ricky Barnes bantering with Brandel Chamblee on TV while standing just a few feet away? It felt legitimately big.
We grabbed a beer (I know, shocker) and headed out. Traditional tee times really did make it feel more like a “real” tournament. And the par-3 scramble format? I’m planting a flag: it’s awesome.
Fast. Aggressive. Birdie-filled. And the smaller footprint means you’re constantly surrounded by action rather than walking miles to see four shots.
We followed the leaders, pivoted when a couple of teams ahead caught fire, and eventually linked up with the brother-sister duo of Ryan and Gabby Ruffels, who were cooking. Eight birdies on the front nine. At one point, Ryan’s caddie said he was running to grab a beer before the back nine. Grass League in one sentence.
Walking around the course lit up at night gave me flashbacks to playing night golf as a kid—New port Beach (aka Matty Newps) and David L. Baker Golf courses in Southern California, hanging with friends—the whole thing. And I’d be lying if I said we didn’t immediately start talking about trying to qualify next year. A man can dream.
Then came the Grass League moment of the weekend.
On 15, both leading groups (the Ruffels siblings and the Drew Stoltz/Drew Kittleson team from the Minnesota Muskies) missed the green, and the MC rallied the crowd to boo them for being the first groups to miss the surface. The players laughed it off, and then Stoltz, co-host of the popular Subpar Podcast, buried a 40-foot putt. His caddie turned to the crowd, and gave the “shhh” sign. I will never not love that move.
Not to be outdone,Ryan Ruffels stepped up and confidently poured in a bomb of his own and sprinted into a fist pump and high fives. You can’t fake that kind of emotion and the crowd ate it up.
We made our way to 18 for the finish. Gabby Ruffels made birdie, the final group just missed their chance to tie, and the LA Roses celebrated as champs.
Walking back toward the putting green (and the massive BigXThaPlug crowd gathering at the stage), I chatted with Will Kropp of Phoenix United, his wife Morgan and their son Ollie who was decked out in team gear. Will said, “It’s really cool competing with these guys and being involved in building the league. Everyone cares so much and you can really feel the excitement.”
And he was right. Everyone from the founders to the players to the fans to the bartenders felt all-in.
I left before the concert (because I’m old) but as I walked away, I realized I’d just been part of a shared experience with a community that didn’t quite know what it was searching for but found something special anyway.
I went in with no expectations and left thinking about the future of the league, the players, the franchises and the fans who are only just beginning to pick sides.
Next time, I’m choosing a team.
The post Grass League: How It Changed My View of Golf appeared first on MyGolfSpy.
