By Rahil Gangjee
For the longest time, golf in India has been that well-behaved cousin at a wedding. Polite. Elegant. Understated. Finishes its dessert quietly and leaves before the DJ plays “Kala Chashma.”
And suddenly — boom — we have 72 The League.
Not just a tournament. Not just another week on the calendar where we complain about bunker rakes and missed putts. A proper league. Franchises. Auctions. Team jerseys. Strategy rooms. Owners discussing player combinations like IPL scouts. It’s golf, but with a little swagger.
Now before the purists spill their Darjeeling tea, let’s understand something. This isn’t about turning golf into cricket. It’s about giving it a microphone.
And what a launch it was.
When you have Jay Shah and Kapil Dev sharing stage space at the unveiling, you know the spotlight isn’t accidental. Jay Shah represents the administrative power centre of global cricket. Kapil paaji, apart from being the man who made 1983 possible, now also wears the hat of President of the Professional Golf Tour of India. That’s not a coincidence. That’s intent.
And intent is what Indian golf has needed for a while.
Let’s rewind.
Golf is traditionally individualistic. It’s you, your bag, your caddie, your swing thoughts, and occasionally your therapist. You win alone. You lose alone. You blame the wind alone.
Beyond the Tee
But 72 The League flips the script. It introduces city-based franchises. It creates teams of professionals playing singles and various matchplay formats. It introduces the concept of strategy beyond yardage books. Suddenly, your birdie helps not just your card, but your team’s standings.
And let me tell you — golfers secretly love being part of a team. We just pretend we don’t.
We’ve all grown up playing practice rounds where the banter is better than the golf. Now imagine that dynamic formalised. Structured. Televised. Supported by owners who actually want you to win because there’s skin in the game.
The auction element alone changed the conversation.
Golfers — who are used to entry lists and tee times — suddenly found themselves “picked.” Valued. Discussed. Debated. There’s something oddly flattering about someone raising a paddle for you. Even if you’ve just three-putted your last event.
But here’s where it becomes more than entertainment.
Narrative Shift
Indian golf has always had talent. What it hasn’t consistently had is visibility.
We’ve had international winners. Asian Tour champions. Olympians. But the mainstream sports audience in India often struggles to name five active Indian golfers. That’s not because of lack of achievement. It’s because of lack of narrative.
Leagues create narrative.
Fans don’t just follow scores. They follow rivalries. Team comebacks. Dramatic final holes. Underdogs beating stars. Suddenly there’s a reason for someone in Jaipur or Ahmedabad to support “their” franchise.
And once fandom enters the room, sponsors don’t stay far behind.
The timing couldn’t be better either.
Indian sport is at an inflection point. Cricket is a behemoth. Kabaddi reinvented itself. Football keeps trying (and bless them for it). Badminton and wrestling have had their moments of National glory.
Golf needed its version of a loud knock on the door.
72 The League might just be that knock.
The nomenclature “72 The League” — is symbolic. Seventy-two is a perfect score in golf. Par for many championship courses. It represents completeness. And here it represents the coming together of experience and youth.
And that blend is crucial.
One of the quiet strengths of the League is how it has mixed seasoned professionals with younger, fearless players. The 16-year-olds who carry drivers like light sabers. The veterans who still believe course management is sexier than swing speed.
When these generations play together under one banner, something important happens: learning accelerates.
Young players see how seniors handle pressure. Seniors feed off youthful energy. And in a team format, ego naturally makes room for collaboration.
Also, let’s be honest — nothing humbles a senior pro faster than a teenager flying it 30 yards past him.
But the biggest shift is psychological.
For years, Indian golfers have chased global validation. We’ve gone abroad to qualify, to compete, to prove we belong. And that pursuit will always continue.
But a strong domestic league changes the ecosystem.
It gives players a structured, high-pressure environment at home. It gives sponsors consistent exposure windows. It gives broadcasters a product that isn’t dependent solely on one superstar.
And that’s healthy.
The presence of influential figures at the inauguration wasn’t about photo-ops. It was about signalling that golf deserves a seat at the larger Indian sporting table.
When someone of Jay Shah’s stature attends, it sends a message to corporate India. When Kapil Dev lends his legacy, it bridges sporting generations. It tells the country that golf isn’t just corporate networking on grass. It’s competitive sport.
Of course, the League won’t magically solve everything overnight.
We still need grassroots development. More public access courses. Junior programs that don’t cost the price of a small car. We need golf to feel less intimidating and more inviting.
But leagues have a funny way of accelerating ecosystems.
Look at how franchise sports build heroes. They create appointment viewing. They manufacture moments.
And sport, at its core, runs on moments.
A clutch putt under floodlights. A captain choosing the right pairing. A young player taking down a veteran in matchplay. Those are the visuals that stick.
For us professionals, it also adds something intangible — accountability.
When you play for yourself, a bad week hurts your pride. When you play for a team, it hurts a little deeper. Because now there are nine other guys whose week depends partly on yours.
That’s powerful.
I’ve played enough golf to know that pressure is the best teacher. And if 72 The League manages to create repeated high-pressure environments domestically, Indian players will be better prepared when they step onto bigger international stages.
In many ways, this could be golf’s “T20 moment.” Not because rounds will be shorter (relax, we’re still taking four hours), but because presentation matters.
Sport today is as much about packaging as performance.
If you want eyeballs, you need stories. If you want stories, you need structure. And if you want structure, you need vision.
This League shows vision.
Will there be teething issues? Of course. We’re golfers — we complain about green speeds even in heaven.
But the intent is bold. And boldness is refreshing.
For once, Indian golf isn’t whispering. It’s clearing its throat.
And if this League sustains — if franchises commit long term, if broadcasters stay invested, if fans begin to identify with teams — we might look back at this season as a turning point.
The week golf in India decided to step into prime time.
So yes, I’ll still obsess over my swing plane. I’ll still blame the occasional gust of wind. But I’ll also admit this: it feels good to see our sport try something ambitious.
Because sometimes, to make par, you have to aim a little more aggressively.
And if 72 The League delivers what it promises, Indian golf might just have found its new driver.
Let’s hope we don’t slice it.
Rahil Gangjee is a professional golfer, sharing through this column what life on a golf course is like
Disclaimer: The views expressed are the author’s own and do not reflect the official policy or position of Financial Express.