For decades, I’ve tracked the currents of culture, pinpointing the shifts that shape how we live and connect. My work as a strategist and researcher has been about catching these waves early and unpacking their meaning.
Now, I’m watching another unfold: Golf is surging into a cultural moment, and it’s not just a game — it’s a reflection of what we’re craving, and we’re seeing it crop up in our cultural lives more and more. Popular programs like Netflix’s “Full Swing,” Owen Wilson’s “Stick” on Apple TV+ and the upcoming “Happy Gilmore 2” are bright signals, but the story beneath them reveals why golf is resonating so deeply.
The scope of this shift is clear in the numbers: 47.2 million Americans are now involved in golf, a 38% jump since before the pandemic. Women and girls are leading the charge, with 800,000 new players since 2020. Girls also account for 38% of junior golfers, up from 15% in 2000.
As a trendspotter, I read these figures as more than data — they’re proof that golf is breaking out of its old, exclusive mold and becoming a shared space for new stories and voices. What’s fueling this? Golf is becoming radically easier to access, much like yoga studios or craft breweries democratized their own corners of culture.
Recreational play spots like Five Iron Golf and Topgolf have turned the game into a quick, social outing, no country club membership required. Simulators like Trackman bring legendary courses to urban bars, letting anyone swing at Pebble Beach’s par-three seventh without leaving the city. This kind of openness, which I’ve seen spark other trends, invites people who once felt that golf wasn’t for them.
Then there’s the way golf answers a deeper need I’ve been tracking: the hunger for real connection. In a world glued to screens, the game offers hours of unfiltered time with others — friends, colleagues or even strangers in a simulator lounge. The 2023 Surgeon General’s report on social isolation flagged this as a growing crisis; golf, with its mix of focus and chatter, feels like a remedy. I’ve studied how shared rituals, from book clubs to fitness classes, build community, and golf’s long, leisurely pace fits that mold perfectly.
The cultural narrative is shifting too, and “Stick” and “Happy Gilmore 2” are both mirrors and megaphones for it. These aren’t tales of manicured fairways and old-money elites. “Stick” dives into quirky, human stories, while “Happy Gilmore 2” will likely lean harder into its underdog charm. They’re part of a pattern I’ve seen before — think streetwear’s takeover of fashion or the food truck boom — where subcultures redefine what’s mainstream. Influencers like Fore The Girls trading stuffy polos for bold, authentic style are pushing this further, making golf a stage for individuality.
At its core, golf’s pull comes from something primal, a pattern I’ve spotted in other trends: it delivers instant feedback. Every swing — ball soaring, putt dropping — offers a clear win, a rare dose of agency in a world of delayed payoffs. It’s like the rush of a viral post or a fitness tracker’s milestone, and it’s why new players, from city-dwelling Gen Z to young juniors, keep coming back.
Golf’s moment also feels like a balancing act. It’s personal — you’re wrestling your own swing — but it’s communal, with shared carts and barstool banter. This mix speaks to an era chasing both self-growth and belonging, pulling people into the game’s orbit.
“Stick” and “Happy Gilmore 2” aren’t just pop culture blips; they’re signs that the momentum of golf will keep getting stronger. As someone who’s spent a career decoding culture, I see golf’s rise as a response to our need for access, connection and a sense of control. It’s not about who’s topping the leaderboard — it’s about who’s picking up a club, ready to join a moment that’s only getting bigger.
Mike Berland is the author of Not About Golf: The Life-Changing Joy of Playing the Game. A longtime strategist and researcher, he is the founding partner of Decode_M (now part of the Penta Group) and formerly served as chief strategy officer to Michael Bloomberg’s 2005 mayoral campaign.
