There was a time when playing for pride and country was enough.
At his birth in 1994, the Presidents’ Cup he paid his competitors exactly nothing. Every dollar that the event generated went to charity. For 13 editions, from 1994 to 2021, no player, captain or vice-captain received a penny personally. The Tour allocated money in their names to charities of their choice instead.
That changed in 2022, when the PGA Tour introduced a stipend of $250,000 for participants to use at their own discretion. The money is no longer earmarked for charity, although many players and captains still choose to give it their all. The Tour also continues to guarantee at least $1 million in charitable impact for the host city.
What happens in the parties is another matter. It is financially irrelevant. The results have no impact on what anyone receives.
The idea of paying touring professionals to represent their country in international match play was not a problem. No one was talking about it. But as the Ryder Cup — the Presidents Cup’s more prestigious cousin — grew in stature, some players began grumbling that they should be compensated for their contributions to what had become a biennial cash cow. In 1999, at the Ryder Cup in Brookline, Mark O’Meara, David Duval and Tiger Woods were among those who suggested as much.
“It burns me like hell to hear some of his views,” US Ryder Cup captain Ben Crenshaw said at the time, echoing a sentiment shared by many fans.
In the following decades, the financial structure around the Ryder Cup has changed (U.S. players now receive $500,000 each, with $300,000 tied up for charity and the rest treated as personal stipends) and money has become a recurring source of friction around the event, a proxy for differing views of what the competition should represent. Some European players have balked at the idea of payment, with Rory McIlroy and Shane Lowry among those who said they would rather play for the privilege than be paid to play.
In the Presidents’ Cup, money has been less of a button issue, in part, perhaps, because the event itself attracts less attention. The stipend is mostly treated as a footnote, not a flash point. And watching the contestants this week, it’s easy to see why money isn’t the stuff of post-round Q&A. The tension around the matches is palpable. The pressure to play for something other than a paycheck serves as a firm and stressful signal of what is really at stake.
The only material prize sits on a table near the 18th green: 28 pounds of sterling silver, plated in 24-carat gold vermeil, with beaded embellishments and an engraved oval logo.
The winning team will take that with them.
As for the other prizes? If the Internationals finally clear, they will return home as conquering heroes, rookies who have slain a Goliath of a golf team. For the heavily favored Americans, who are on course to go into Sunday’s singles, a victory will cause a familiar celebration, but also, of course, a sense of relief.
