The TGL fan experience wasn’t for me. But maybe it’s something for you

PALM BEACH GARDENS, Fla. – Want to see Tiger Woods in action for the first time this year? Tune in Tuesday at 7 PM Eastern to ESPN for the fourth week of the second season for TGL golf, the indoor nighttime golf league made for TV.

Woods isn’t playing, but his club, Jupiter Links, is in action opposite New York Golf Club. (Woods is an owner-operator of the Jupiter team.) You’ll have a chance to watch Woods walk back and forth from the rotating green at one end of the court to the center field tee at the SoFi Center, just off PGA Boulevard, the main street of the modern PGA Tour.

Or maybe you are nearby. (Six million people live in South Florida, plus visitors.) Want to see all this action live? As of Tuesday morning, good tickets for tonight’s game were still available through Ticketmaster, starting at $250.

Last Tuesday I went to watch TGL in the first week of this new year. Seeking the fan experience, I bought the least expensive single ticket available, $189, which included (according to the fine print) various fees. But not all the different fees. I accidentally went first to the valet, where the parking fee was $80, and from there to the self-parking lot, where the parking fee was $30. The SoFi Center is located on the campus of Palm Beach State College.

I asked the parking attendant if I could park somewhere else for free and walk in from there. That was not the case. “If it makes you feel any better, parking here last year cost $40.” Are falling parking rates some kind of economic indicator? Judging by the cars around, even in the self-parking lots, and the fancy looks of the people coming out, no one was concerned about $10 here, $10 there. As I struck up a conversation with the 20-something ticket holder who emerged from a car parked next to mine, he rattled off several details about the golf courses at Apogee, a new development about 20 miles north of here that has three golf courses and a short course. “It’s killing me,” my neighbor in the parking lot told me.

The SoFi Center was spotless, a little damp, a little dead, with limited food options—a soft pretzel for $8, burgers and veggie burgers for $14—and all kinds of top-shelf liquor. The arena seats about 1,500 people and there were hundreds of empty seats. The two teams competing in this season opener were the Atlanta squad against the Bay team, representing greater San Francisco. In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I watched some TGL on TV, but never really understood what I was watching. I don’t hit balls on a simulator. I’ve never been to a Topgolf. I’m not the demographic TGL is targeting here. As a child I went to ABA basketball games and enjoyed them very much. The red-white-blue ball, Dr. J flies through the air with it.

We didn’t have earplugs then. At the SoFi Center you get a pair, apparently a gift from your patrons, although you have to provide some information to get them working. I spent about 20 minutes charging mine and pairing it with my cell phone. After 21 minutes I gave up. I could hear play-by-play commentary and player-to-player conversations through dedicated channels available on my phone. Amid all the other ambient noise, I didn’t get far with it.

I’ve spent a lot of time watching Billy Horschel, a lifelong Floridian and former Gator golfer who is on the Atlanta team. He always seemed to be doing something and doing it energetically. I saw him slam an iron into the giant screen toward an electronic hole that I couldn’t process, but the swing looked good. Horschel must have felt the same way. The moment his shot went up into the air and headed for the screen, he somehow knew he had frozen it. Must be fun. At the SoFi Center you don’t have to worry about gusts of wind. He was within 10 meters. Before long it was time to reverse direction and march to the rotating green. It’s staggering.

Upstairs, from the roof of the SoFi Center, there are many flashing lights. Booming music (good sound system!) is a constant, except when the announcer provided some insight into the action below, including the ever-present question of whether one team or others would “throw the hammer.” For the thousand or more fans in attendance, plus the hundreds of thousands watching ESPN and its family of broadcasters, it was apparently some kind of mild preoccupation.

You can read all about hammer throwing, TGL style, on the TGL website, and I did. Checking your phone while attending this two-hour, 15-hole TGL event is completely normal. Throwing the hammer is a strategic tool that allows a team to increase the value of a single hole from one point to two. There’s more to it than that, but at least that will get you started.

The hammer itself is not a hammer at all. Horschel had his in his back left pocket, where it almost looked like a Handi Wipe, sometimes worn by Sunday guys, to keep their clubs and golf balls clean. But you can throw the hammer with great style. The players, by the way, were provided with team uniforms decorated with their usual individually secured notes. Patrick Cantlay, also a member of the Atlanta team, had Delta stenciled on the chest of his shirt, Cisco on his sleeve and Apollo on his hat.

Lexi Thompson was in the house, as was the LPGA commissioner, Craig Kessler. There will be a women’s TGL competition later this year. Brian Rolapp, the CEO of the PGA Tour, was in the house. Rolapp and his fellow Tour executives have a vested interest in TGL’s success, as partial ownership of a TGL team could prove to be another recruiting tool to keep star golfers on the PGA Tour and off LIV. Woods owns the league and owns the Jupiter team. Rory McIlroy also owns the league and the Boston team, which is owned by Fenway Sports Group, with which he has business ties.

At the end of nine holes the score was Atlanta 4, Bay 3. I can’t say I cared, but I was mildly curious to see how the last five holes would play out. I went into the wide, quiet hallway, stood in a short line to play a single shot on a simulator sponsored by the PGA of America, hit a weak push with a 7-iron into a virtual ocean for my first swing of the new year, and returned to the arena.

Sometime during this period, Marky Mark’s old hit, “Good Vibrations,” thundered through the SoFi Center. Chris Gotterup, a fill-in player for Atlanta, holed a bunker shot. I think someone threw a hammer before he shot, but I can’t say for sure. The final score was Atlanta Drive Golf Club 7, Bay Golf Club 4. I can’t think of a sports league where the basic principle was to make money for team and league owners, but perhaps TGL will be the exception.

Don’t pass me by. When Topgolf was first explained to me, before the first one went up, I thought, “Sounds like a glorified driving range.” I thought the same thing about self-driving cars. On the way back to self-parking, I saw a driverless car in action for the first time in my life. The owner apparently figured out a way to get all the benefits of valet parking without having to pay the extra $40.

ABA basketball used to be children’s entertainment for young basketball fans. There was some serious basketball being played at The Garden, by the Knicks. Knicks vs. Celtics. Knicks vs. the Sixers. Knicks vs. Lakers. Maybe one day Jupiter v. New York will have such a ring. Maybe one day there will be a movie about TGL golf, just like rollerball. Maybe this whole thing will play out in some glorious way that I can’t see. People need entertainment, and here comes TGL to provide it. Entertainment is just like anything else. It’s in the eye of the beholder. I’d rather watch a four-spotter play-off on Monday to get a spot in a Tour event. But that’s just me.

Michael Bamberger welcomes your comments at Michael.Bamberger@Golf.com