MONTREAL — He had the audacity to bark at Scottie Scheffler, and the only thing more shocking was that Tom Kim had the audacity to do it again the following hole, chirping in the World No. 1’s ear not once or twice but three times while flexing his arms like a bodybuilder.
Lest we think Kim lost himself in a heated moment during the opening session of the 2024 Presidents Cup, what happened next left no doubt. Instead of atoning for this perceived sin, Kim doubled down by walking off the eighth green before Scheffler and his partner Russell Henley had finished out the hole, a move that caused analyst Paul McGinley to express disgust. It was arguably disrespectful he noted, and perhaps even bush-league.
But it’s absolutely, unequivocally what his International team—and this event—desperately needed to start the four days of competition at Royal Montreal.
Kim introduced himself to the world the last time this event was held, two years ago at Quail Hollow. The then-20-year-old was fresh off his first PGA Tour win, playing to the crowds by asking them to make noise during his opening tee shots and responding to holed 10-footers like he just captured a major. It was spirited but also good-natured, and the American gallery appreciated that this fledgling star saw himself not just as a player but as an entertainer. After all, this was the Presidents Cup, a competition where the outcome has almost never been in doubt, not with the Internationals winning less than the Washington Generals. So what if Kim posted a losing record that week in Charlotte; in its 30-year history, the Presidents Cup has been woefully short of indelible moments and surprises. Kim, at the very least, provided a wrinkle to the proceedings.
On Thursday at Royal Montreal, Kim showed he’s more than just a cute little youngster. He’s a force of nature, a human tsunami, unbothered by what’s in his way and offended at the notion that he can be stopped.
For those that missed the opening round, Kim was partnered with Sungjae Im in four-balls and pitted against Henley and Scheffler. Not only is the latter on one of the greatest heaters in recent golf history; Scheffler is a personal friend of Kim, a mentor, someone who has helped Kim with his assimilation into the professional game and the United States, even spending time together to practice their faith. But the only religion in the air in Montreal was Kim’s attempt to go biblical on the World No. 1.
It started at the par-3 seventh, after Kim dropped a 20-footer for birdie and proceeded to pirouette while yelling to the skies, behavior that was not all-too dissimilar to the displays at Quail Hollow. Only Scheffler was not feeling those theatrics, sinking his own birdie try and screaming “What was that?!” right in Kim’s direction. Kim seemed to take it in stride, smiling back and clapping at this friend, but those waiting for Scheffler to smile in return never saw Scheffler’s lips curl. Scheffler, forever stoic, looked very much like a man who had been crossed, leading to a wave of “Prison’s really changed Scottie” jokes on the grounds and on social media.
If that was it, it would have been a funny, memorable exchange on an otherwise sleepy Day 1. Except the damndest thing happened, as Kim screamed in Scheffler’s ear on the very next hole. It was the golf equivalent of spitting into the wind or giving an MMA fighter a wedgie. Poor Kim didn’t know he was a dead man walking, a sight that was only underlined when he broke an unwritten rule by moving to the next hole as his opponents were still playing.
"That's bordering on bad behavior there," McGinley said on the broadcast, sounding like an elementary principal disappointed in the students for playing a wicked prank on a substitute teacher. "That's disrespectful, in my opinion. I know it's competitive out there, but it certainly shows you there's an underlying edge here that it's not all fun and games."
Now, match play and its endless vagaries are prone to creating controversies, without fail. This was different, and in all the right ways.
Because the truth is the Presidents Cup remains without an identity some 30 years after its founding. Fans have not been able to muster the same excitement towards it as the Ryder Cup conjures, and though the Internationals’ lack of success has a lot to do with it, their own ambivalence is part of that equation.
Australia’s Jason Day even said as much himself earlier in the week. “I think in my younger day I didn't really look towards the Presidents Cup as something that I wanted to play in because it's such an individual sport, and I never really cared too much to play in the Presidents Cup because all I cared about was playing on the PGA Tour and trying to win.” It was only noteworthy in that Day said the quiet part out loud.
The Internationals have also been without a provocateur or protagonist. Ernie Els was a deferential player who was always in the shadow of Tiger. Adam Scott is too much of a gentleman. The next time Hideki Matsuyama emotes will be the first. And the Internationals have, for far too long, played the role of underdog, just happy to be there with the hope to give their best. That’s not competition, that’s exhibition. And if the Ryder Cup is golf at its best, the Presidents Cup … well, isn’t.
And here comes Kim, missing the memo about deference and embracing the fire that burns within, unconcerned with who he might piss off in the process. It’s the kind of emotion the Internationals have lacked, the type of avatar that can summon strong reactions from American fans and players. The type of irrational confidence needed to look at the American roster and think, "Yeah, we can do this." The Internationals are no longer a faceless shield and rudderless vehicle, finding a player willing to stand out front while simultaneously being the fuel that lights the fire.
Kim will eventually need to turn those dramatic performances into something tangible on the scoreboard—he and Im ultimately lost, 3 and 2—for any of this to ultimately matter. But after 30 sleepy years, Tom Kim, kicking and screaming, is trying to awaken the Presidents Cup from its slumber.