And so! Here we are, again, in Adelaide, and the fourth iteration of LIV Adelaide, the annual palooza of golf, good times and the playing of funky music, white boy, and so on.

And if you haven’t been to Adelaide for LIV then you probably know someone who has, or have heard of it via media such as this, or so-called “social” media, or otherwise via the interconnected “web” of computers known as the internet.

And you may be thinking, I fancy some of that. Or you may be thinking, screw that for a game of chocolate soldiers. It is entirely, of course, your call.

This is now my third trip to LIV Adelaide. Twice for work, once for play. Work is  great. Play smashes it like local legend David Hookes hitting one over the members stand at the Adelaide Oval.

In 2023 I took a golf group over and we played Glenelg and Links Lady Bay down the road, and we enjoyed a fine long lunch at McLaren Vale, and a bus took us around the place, and we paid overs for a day in the Party Hole in a corporate zone (a day before Chase Koepka sent the whole joint nuts), and at another not as flash but still good area of “free” drink and complimentary hats, and I can assure you that these were good times indeed.

PLUS...

Cleary: Koepka's gone, Reed's gone, Elvis and the kids are in the building. Why LIV's laughing

Brooks Koepka and Patrick Reed have left the LIV Golf league, while Bryson DeChambeau is playing his chips in a half-billion dollar power play. And the demise of LIV Golf has been prophesised again. And yet, LIV continues to invest - in youth, in a world tour, in itself - giving no indication of going anywhere, writes Matt Cleary.

Yet it's the pictures that tell the story of LIV Adelaide better than this gibber. The crowd, the people, the vibe, all that – it’s like there’s a freedom of expression thing going on. Australian sports fans have long been … well, not “controlled” by Big Brother in the Sky, but they’ve certainly had an eye kept on them. Beer snakes have resulted in expulsions. Toss about a beach ball and you're marked by security.

At LIV, though, it’s not that officious. It’s a bit officious – it has to be, a bit. But there is scope for people get loose, enjoy themselves. Noise is allowed, indeed encouraged. The marketing and comms types know the power of the visuals. 

Adelaide flocks for the champion of 2024, Brandon Steele. Imagine if an Aussie wins it. PHOTO: Getty Images.

See the scenes of the people, massed around the superstars on the 18th hole on day three of any given tournament. That stuff is global publicity gold – for LIV, for Adelaide, for Australia.

It was one of the reasons Rory McIlroy came to Melbourne. He knows that Australia is a sporting nation that’s been so long starved of world class golf that when it turns up, people get quite excited.

So, what’s on the horizon for LIV? Not the Grange GC, anyway, not next year, with storied Kooyonga taking over for one year before refurbished North Adelaide gets the gig.

Will 72 holes be the kicker? It does mean a four-day party in Adelaide. And that is surely not a bad thing for LIV, for Adelaide, for Australia – and for tens of thousands of sports fans who don’t care if it’s a golf tournament with a music festival or the other way around, they just know it’s grouse and fun.

And in these vexed times of political upheaval, hatred and division, maybe it’s enough.

Play that funky music.