Yet it was not. Because despite what The Lego Movie and LIV Golf's commentary team would have you believe, everything is not awesome. For it cannot be. Where there is Yin there is Yang. Where there is light there is shade. Where there is Abe Ancer stiffing one on 18 there is Cameron Smith plugging in a trap. 

Still - it was a bloody pretty good day. I’d played golf at sunrise. I’d had coffee with the Sunday papers. I’d enjoyed pork belly surprise for lunch at the pub.

And, after returning home to write ‘mow the lawn’ on the calendar on the fridge, I’d settled in with a family-sized packet of cheese Doritos and a frosty tin of Mick Fanning’s Balter, and commanded the televisions: entertain me, you bastards. Wash your sporting goodness over me like balm. Bring it, LIV Golf Hong Kong at this tres Aussie-friendly 3pm kick-off time. Bring. Bloody. It.

LIV Golf Hong Kong did bring it. And it was pretty cool, in parts, mildly to quite irritating in other parts, a melange of colour, a hodge-podge of action. It was a bit of everything, everywhere, all at once.

The golf was good. It was compelling enough TV with half-a-dozen players well in the hunt as the field thundered around the turn and down the straight as if at Sha Tin or Happy Valley.

Our guy Smith was leading, Ancer was battling, Paul Casey was channelling younger Paul Casey. Joaquin Niemann and Bryson Dechambeau were hovering a couple shots back. Jon Rahm was being Jon Rahm, a ball of potential energy, a big tubby bear ever ready to explode.

And our Rippers led by two.

Jon Rahm watched a series of putts slide by the hole on his way to 10-under, three shots out of a three-man play-off. PHOTO: Getty Images

And because they were all going to finish at the same time, it did feel like a race. In a ‘normal’, non-shotgun start, they come in more slowly. It’s like they trickle in over the line. Putt in, hats off, shake hands. You know the scores posted. You know what the players in the last group or two have to do.

Which is better? In this kneejerk-combative social media space, let's go with neither. Let's go with liking both things. It's possible to do. Why, I often purchase Woolworths' bananas but will sometimes pay overs for the tangier Lady Finger bananas at your Harris Farm. For instance.

One thing: LIV Golf feels faster than regular, pro tournament golf. It’s like there’s more going on at once. Again, whether that’s better, I’m not sure. Your call. Whatever floats your banana boat.

It does feel harder to keep up – particularly as there’s two competitions going on, the individual and the team event. They sell that as a plus.  The leaderboard is always on, a dynamic, moveable feast of numbers and colour. “Don’t Blink” is a tagline.

Colour and noise are promoted as a feature not a glitch of LIV Golf. PHOTO: Getty Images

I didn’t blink. Yet when the team leaderboard changed, and Crushers (-35) and Torque (-33) had taken over Ripper (-32), which had been leading for long periods, we didn’t see all the shots that made this happen.

Ripper had been -34. We didn’t see what Matt Jones, Marc Leishman and Lucas Herbert were doing. Not all of it, anyway. Not what contributed. Similarly we only saw Casey’s chip-in birdie, yet the Crushers moved into the lead by two.

Maybe it's not possible with so much going on at once. The director would have to be one of those alien squid things in Men In Black to throw the viewer around to all the stories of the day. The viewer would need more TVs. And eyes. The slob on the couch eating Doritos can't cop information overload.

LIV Golf tournaments have two competitions. Knowing what's going on, even on television, is a challenge. PHOTO: Getty Images

Top of that, the commentary and colour people, LIV Golf’s in-house media are relentlessly positive about their 'product'. You know how some Americans will tell you everything is awesome? It’s Tuesday? Awesome! You’re brushing your teeth? Awesome! Dental health is so important!

But here's the thing: everything is not awesome. When Smith was captured exclaiming “S*** that was a f***in’ bad swing”, there was silence in the commentary box. Dead air. It took David Feherty to fill the void, beat perfect. “I don’t think he liked that one,” he said.

What LIV Golf commentary needs is a Johnny Miller type – if not Johnny Miller - holding people furiously to account with acerbic opinions.

When Miller was in his commentary pomp, it could feel, especially to the players in question, that he was putting shit on them. And certainly he didn’t miss ‘em, as they say, as Craig Parry's swing coach would attest.

But Miller was just calling spades bloody shovels. He was fulfilling his media remit to report without fear or favour. Hold authority to account, in this case the player. 

Cam Smith finished 13-under in Hong Kong but bogied the first play-off hole. PHOTO: Getty Images

What LIV Golf needs - and the PGA Tour and every other golf broadcast, when you think about it, needs - is independent, third party media broadcasting their shows.

Everything isn't awesome. The golf public isn't stupid. And if Smith hits it short, right and terrible into a bunker with his approach shot in the three-man play-off, then that’s what happened and that’s the story. 

Smith had hit a couple like it in Royal Queensland when he bowed out of the PGA Championship of Australia – just these dud, effete … not shanks, far from shanks. But just sort of weak-arsed bits of kit that faded away short and right.

And when he plugged in the trap and Ancer hit a pure piece of kit to four feet, that was the ball game there.

And that was my Sunday. Everything was not awesome. But it wasn’t bloody bad either.

Microcosm of LIV Golf right there. It's not perfect. What is?

But as Feherty says, you'll like it if you like golf.