JOHANNESBURG — Dean Burmester reflected on a sentiment shared by many South Africans throughout the week. Standing near the first green, he conversed with Jon Rahm, their gaze drifting back up the incline towards the grandstand they had just departed.
“A glimpse of the Ryder Cup,” he remarked to Rahm. “That’s probably the closest I’ll ever get. Truly extraordinary.”
The emphasis wasn’t on the comparison itself, nor on Rahm’s subsequent remarks about crowd numbers. Burmester wasn’t even aware the television microphones were capturing their exchange. Instead, the core idea was Burmester’s momentary daydream, a mental elevation. He fully understood he would never participate in a Ryder Cup, nor, at this pace, a Presidents Cup. Yet, did LIV Golf’s event in his homeland evoke the spirit of a Ryder Cup for the local contingent? Indeed, it had that distinct resonance.
Burmester embodied both a symbolic figure and a competitor during the week, enthusiastically acknowledging successful shots, pounding his chest, dancing for the euphoric spectators, and twirling dramatically on tee boxes, his arms outstretched like Maximus Meridius in “Gladiator.”
This spirited display was a consistent feature from the 36-year-old veteran throughout the entire week, primarily because LIV’s model for large-scale international tournaments once again proved effective, mirroring its success in Australia over recent years. Over 100,000 tickets were snapped up in Johannesburg, a prominent global metropolis, with attendees rallying behind a singular, patriotic team.
“My constant hat removal has given me a bit of a tan,” Burmester commented shortly after the event concluded. “It was simply something — I wanted to perform well for the fans and felt honored to express my gratitude wherever I went. Such immense support is incredible; they’re cheering loudly along the fairways and on the greens and so forth, and I just wanted to convey my thanks. That was essentially my goal. The more commotion they could generate, the better.”
And commotion they certainly generated.
Do South Africans celebrate more boisterously than Australians? LIV Golf aimed to explore that proposition. Its events increasingly resemble music festivals. At least, those that can guarantee record attendance. The formula is clear: attract as many people as possible for golf, musical performances, or simply sunshine and beverages—whatever appeals most—disperse them, energize them with tracks like the Beastie Boys, and unleash them upon golf’s traditionally quiet decorum. It’s designed to feel distinct. It involves substantial financial investment. And it will undeniably stand out, especially if the golf itself is compelling. Was this the inaugural instance where Burmester experienced thousands upon thousands of fans trailing his group? Perhaps! Or perhaps not. He’s a seasoned player. But his feelings on this occasion were unambiguous.
“The greatest week of my life,” he declared. And this was even after his team secured a second-place finish. His teammate, Branden Grace, narrowly missed a birdie putt that would have propelled the Southern Guards into a playoff for the team title. Given the waterlogged course and the lively, perhaps even inebriated, state of the crowd, it might have been for the best that it didn’t come to pass.
The animated Minister of Sports, Art and Culture, Gayton McKenzie, spent the morning fueling enthusiasm, proclaiming to cameras that his team would triumph on Sunday, and they initially appeared poised to do so. What began as a nine-stroke advantage gradually diminished throughout the round and ultimately vanished when the South African contingent managed only a solitary birdie across their final 16 collective holes. Louis Oosthuizen concluded his round with a bogey on a par-5. South African President Cyril Ramaphosa was present to commend their efforts, but in the end, he was seen smiling on TV alongside Bryson DeChambeau, who had extinguished their team aspirations in regulation play, and subsequently defeated Jon Rahm in a playoff.
When questioned about the South African LIV players’ Sunday night plans, especially after being promised the country’s most extravagant party if they won, Louis Oosthuizen stated he was heading to bed. They were all utterly exhausted. Therein lies the stark difference between victory and defeat.
“I’m craving a brandy and Coke,” Burmester confessed, amidst what was likely his 30th interview of the week. The impromptu press briefing unfolded on the 1st tee box, with countrymen gathered around them from above one final time.
“Every one of us teed off on this 1st tee, and every one of us walked off articulating the exact same sentiment: we were numb. It was the most incredible sensation I’ve ever experienced on a golf course. I am simply proud to be a South African; that sums it up.”