Cheap to the Core: How the PGA Tour Exploits Its Volunteers for Profit

Cheap to the Core: How the PGA Tour Exploits Its Volunteers for Profit

Introduction

Golf has long been celebrated as a game of honor, tradition, and respect—but when you peel back the PGA Tour’s polished image, what you find underneath is corporate greed cloaked in golf attire. The sport may pride itself on etiquette and class, but the PGA Tour has mastered the art of squeezing every last dollar from the very people who keep its tournaments running: the volunteers.

At events like The Players Championship at TPC Sawgrass, volunteers donate upward of 40 hours of their time during tournament week. These individuals are the invisible hands guiding traffic, managing the ropes, welcoming fans, and ensuring every shot happens without chaos. But instead of gratitude, what do they receive? A bill.

Volunteers must pay for their own uniforms. They receive no complimentary meals. They’re forced to park off-site and deal with long, inconvenient shuttle rides. And if they want to attend the so-called "Volunteer Appreciation Party"? It costs money and is capped at 600 people—despite there being over 2,500 volunteers. That means if 300 bring a guest, the rest are simply out of luck. What kind of organization charges for a volunteer party—and then excludes most of the volunteers?

But the most recent slap in the face came after my 40 hours of service: I was offered a round at the Stadium Course for $35—reasonable. But when my wife simply joined me to ride in the golf cart, they charged her $40. That’s right—more than they charged me to play. Had she stayed home, the PGA wouldn’t have earned a dime. But they couldn’t resist grabbing her $40.

This isn’t just bad optics—it’s a deliberate culture of greed. And it’s time someone called it out.

Body: The Bitter Reality Behind the Polished Greens

The PGA Tour loves to talk about tradition, excellence, and gratitude—but the way it treats its volunteers tells a very different story. These men and women, who show up every year to make tournaments successful, are treated less like valued contributors and more like walking revenue streams.

1. Volunteers Pay to Work
Let’s start with the most offensive reality: volunteers have to pay to volunteer. That means paying for required uniforms branded with PGA logos, and in many cases, registration fees just to participate. In what other billion-dollar industry are people charged to donate their time?

2. No Meals—Bring Your Own Lunch
While volunteers do have access to water during their shifts (one of the only courtesies provided), there are no free meals. You’re on your feet all day, often in scorching heat—and unless you pack your own lunch or shell out money at overpriced vendors, you’ll go hungry. Meanwhile, corporate tents enjoy catered buffets and air conditioning.

3. Poor Transportation Logistics
Forget convenient parking. Volunteers must park far from the course and ride shuttles that are frequently delayed or overcrowded. These delays often result in stress and late arrivals to assignments—yet no accommodations are made.

4. A Party with a Price Tag
Every year, the PGA Tour hosts a “Volunteer Appreciation Party.” Sounds nice, right? Except it’s not free. Volunteers must pay to attend—and it’s capped at just 600 people. With over 2,500 volunteers, and many bringing guests, more than 1,900 are left out entirely. What organization charges its unpaid workers to attend an appreciation event—and then excludes most of them?

5. Monetizing the “Reward”
Here’s where the hypocrisy peaks. After 40 hours of unpaid work, I was offered a round of golf at the Stadium Course for $35. That’s fine. But when my wife joined me as a non-playing rider in the cart, they charged her $40—more than my round cost. That’s $75 for a “thank you” gift. Had she stayed home, they wouldn’t have seen a dime. Instead, they saw an opportunity to profit off her presence.

This isn’t generosity. It’s exploitation.

Conclusion

The PGA Tour's treatment of volunteers reveals a stark and disappointing truth: they are not viewed as valued team members, but as free labor to be mined for every possible dollar. From charging for uniforms and meals to monetizing appreciation events and ride-alongs, the PGA Tour has demonstrated that no opportunity to profit is beneath them—even when it comes to the people who make their success possible.

Providing water is the bare minimum—and yet it’s held up as a benefit. But what about meals? What about on-site parking? What about real, unrestricted appreciation for thousands of people giving away their time to ensure the PGA’s events are flawless? It’s shameful that a volunteer needs to pay out of pocket to attend a “thank-you” party—and worse that most can’t even get in.

And the $40 charge for a volunteer’s spouse to ride in a golf cart? That one moment says it all. A professional organization with billions in revenue decided that making an extra $40 was more important than expressing true appreciation. My wife didn’t play golf. She sat beside me in a cart. And for that, they charged more than they charged me, the volunteer.

Volunteers are waking up. We’re starting to realize that the PGA Tour doesn’t see us as partners or even supporters. They see us as a line item on a spreadsheet—another potential stream of income.

Unless something changes, unless volunteers are finally treated with respect, dignity, and fairness, the PGA risks losing its most loyal workers. Because as more people speak out, it’s becoming clear:

The PGA Tour is cheap to the core.

And we’re done pretending otherwise.