Anthony Kim at last plays again this week. On Monday, LIV chief executive Greg Norman trumpeted what suspiciously sounded like the second coming when hailing the American’s first competitive appearance since 2012.
Cue a collective rolling of the eyes, followed by exclamations of what this breathless hype says about the fractured state of the professional male game.
Yet before we leap in with the grand pronouncements about how pitiful a supposedly elite scene will look when a 38-year-old a dozen years on from his last tournament commands the headlines, we should remember who Kim was and who he could still be.
He might well be re-emerging as a freak show this week, who could be taking a $10 million insurance gamble to rejoin the circus, but be sure his return would have been big news whether there was a Saudi-funded breakaway league or not.
Indeed, the myth of Anthony Kim has continued to build with so much fascination over the last decade that any tournament promoter worthy of their publicity department would crave his presence.
When he burst through those country club gates, Kim – or “AK” as he soon became known – was America’s ‘can’t miss kid’, the country’s first since Tiger Woods. At the time, there was no Dustin Johnson, or Jordan Spieth, Rickie Fowler or Justin Thomas, or, of course, the next generation led by Collin Morikawa.
When Kim played in the Texas Open in 2006, Phil Mickelson, Ernie Els, Vijay Singh and Adam Scott had largely been seen off by the monstrous domination of Woods. Although there was a young Ulsterman by the name of Rory McIlroy threatening to storm the hegemony, here was a 20-year-old with the skill and swagger to at least promise a vibrant future.
Kim finished second on that first start on the PGA Tour and two seasons later, he was in the world’s top 10 armed with the status as the first American under-25 to win twice in one year on Tour since Woods in 2000. He wore a big, brash “AK” belt buckle – the initials emblazoned in diamonds – and with a reputation for wild parties off the course and a complete disregard for risk aversion on it, he seemed like an entire Brat Pack of his very own. Even Phil the Thrill was enthralled by his chutzpah.
“That AK was so impressive,” Mickelson told Sports Illustrated. “He had guts. He wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything. He had every shot, and he just kept coming, making birdie after birdie.”
Both Sergio García and Augusta National would testify. The former felt the full Kim effect in the top singles match at the 2008 Ryder Cup – the 5&4 spanking set the tone for Team USA’s first win of this century. Six months on and the latter yielded 11 birdies to the fearless gunslinger in a Friday 65. Augusta had never before – or since – permitted more than 10 birdies in a single round, but Kim did not play by the rules. Not even by the strict Masters rules.
Yes, there were concerns about his exuberance boiling over into bad behaviour – a personal recollection is watching Kim barge into Ian Poulter in between holes at that Kentucky Ryder Cup when the LA firebrand was not even playing in that session – but with the Tour producing so many clones, even the warts were alluring.
He set out into the 2010 season, with Woods involved in his sex scandal and the succession surely in place. Third place in the Masters only emphasised his quality.
And then came the injuries. First a thumb problem, then a wrist complaint and after a ruptured Achilles here and a torn rotator cuff there, by 2012, after three straight withdrawals, that was it. No official announcement, no tearful retirement, just no sign of “AK”. The weeks racked into the months, the months into years.
By 2014 he had been labelled ‘golf’s Yeti’. The phenomenal showman had become his sport’s Abominable Snowman. There were random sightings, bizarre anecdotes, wacky theories and everything else... barring plaster casts of large footprints.
Stories would constantly pop up of an imminent Kim return. He was always “just about” to reappear, forever lined up for a sensational comeback. But then came the report of the Kim insurance policy and suddenly the legend had its plausible explanation.
Kim allegedly received $10 million for his career-ending injury, but if he was, or is, to keep the payout it would have to be exactly that – by the terms of his policy it was claimed he cannot play professional golf again. Tee it up and he would have to reimburse the monies and until the LIV tanks rolled on to the pristine fairways to fire out its inexhaustible fusillade of petro-dollars, that seemed an extraordinary sum of money.
And now? Well, $10 million was Pat Perez’s signing on fee from LIV.
Are the Saudis paying off Kim’s debt and in these febrile golfing times in which the power of the individual has reached ludicrous levels, is he banking on mining his cult-like celebrity for every gem on those buckles? Is he fit? Can he actually be competitive again? After all, 38 is not old for a pro.
After more than 4,000 days of questions, golf believes it is overdue answers, but LIV has so far been wise with its newest asset. Norman unveiled Kim without mentioning his name, posting below the obligatory cheesy promotional video which also dares not to reveal his name, but which is brave enough to make an early pitch for ‘redemption’.
Over the top? Of course. But inevitable. Golf’s focus will fall on the Royal Greens Country Club in King Abdullah Economic City on Friday as the saga becomes yet more surreal.