Music, hoodies, and beer: Inside the battle tearing golf apart

Getty Images; Alyssa Powell/BI David Schneider is all for people having fun on the golf course — to a point.

The 47-year-old reached said point recently on a rare three-generational outing with his father and son on a municipal course in San Diego.

They got stuck behind a foursome of 20-somethings who were downing Coors Lights, smoking cigars, and playing at what he describes as a "snail's pace," oblivious to the groups piling up behind them.

"They really didn't care about pace of play," says Schneider, who runs a curated golf experience company in Southern California.

The situation reached a boiling point when the increasingly belligerent bros decided to tee off their finished beer cans.

They even started taking mulligans (golf-speak for second tries) when their empties didn't clear the tee box.

"All the while, my foursome watched their drunken incompetence from just a few feet away," Schneider says.

While Schneider's experience was an especially egregious scene, it's emblematic of the culture clash taking place within golf .

The sport has surged in popularity in recent years: Nearly 50 million Americans hit a golf ball in 2025, up 41% from 2019.

It's exploded on social media — even LeBron James has launched a golf YouTube channel.

But growing the game has come with major growing pains.

Golf's old guard complains that novices aren't tuned into the game's rules and etiquette : they play too slowly, listen to music, and (gasp!) don't tuck in their shirts.

It's prompted a "Shrink the Game" backlash among some online traditionalists.

Newcomers, on the other hand, contend that many of the gripes are little more than elitist gatekeeping that has long defined the sport.