Then it all started to unravel. As DeChambeau battled unspecified problems in his personal life, as well as persistent equipment tinkering, a wrist injury then forced him out of LIV’s next event in Mexico. A third-place in Virginia cushioned the fall somewhat, but then the rug was pulled again at the PGA Championship as the 32-year-old’s second straight failure to make a major weekend led to a rather bizarre exit at Aronimink.
And this is all before we get to the fact that, in the middle of all this, Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund decided to withdraw it’s multibillion-dollar backing of LIV Golf following the conclusion of the 2026 campaign, leaving the future of all the league’s players up in the air.
Of course, particularly when it comes to LIV’s star name, the rumors have been rife. DeChambeau was reported to have met with PGA Tour representatives under the Big Oak Tree at Augusta, while another theory is that he will have a limited schedule so he can focus on his YouTube channel. DeChambeau currently has just shy of three million subscribers, but he has targeted tripling that number by reaching a more global audience.
“I’d love to do a bunch of dubbing in different languages, giving the world more reason to watch YouTube,” he told ESPN. “And then I’d love to play tournaments that want me.” The second of his two US Open titles in 2024 means he is exempt in that tournament until 2034, The Open until 2028, and the Masters and PGA Championship until 2029.
The uncertainty of his future, though, has left DeChambeau at a fork in the road.
In a thoroughly entertaining – by which I mean largely excruciating – appearance on the Katie Miller Podcast, the two-time US Open champion seems open to either route.
“I’m in a weird space right now, I don’t know what to do – either content creation or professional golf,” DeChambeau says. “I don’t know what to do right now.”
But then Miller asks DeChambeau a question that seems to take him by surprise. Which one is more lucrative? He shuffles in his seat and laughs awkwardly as he appears to try and do some quick sums in his head.
“I’d say they’re about the same,” he concludes. Then, raising his hand above his head, adds: “If you’re up at that level in content creation, they are very, very similar.”
It’s certainly a bold claim, even with the most basic math.
DeChambeau commanded a signing-on fee reported to be worth $125 million from LIV Golf, and has gone on to make $56 million in prize money on the league. That’s on top of the $37 million he made on the PGA Tour before jumping ship. Put your calculators away, it’s $218 million.
Meanwhile, YouTube’s current highest-earning star is Jimmy Donaldson, better known to your kids as Mr Beast, who rakes in up to $100 million a year from 488 million subscribers and a far bigger target demographic.
In the golf sphere, only Rick Shiels is ahead of DeChambeau, with around 300,000 more subscribers. According to a number of sources, Shiels’ channel rakes in anything between $250,000 and $750,000 a year. Which, if you’ll excuse the somewhat crude dismissal of what is a colossal amount of money to most people, is relative pocket change to what DeChambeau can earn on tour.
Either way, he’s not going to be struggling to make rent any time soon. But whatever keeps him in the headlines.
Other than his career crossroads, DeChambeau was also quizzed on a number of topics by his host. Here are a couple more pearls of wisdom from the Californian…
Bryson DeChambeau on…
…conspiracy theories
When asked if he would rather win the Masters or play golf on the moon, DeChambeau barely has time to think before Miller follows up on his general beliefs around the moon landing. DeChambeau, seemingly aware of Miller’s core audience, plays it safe.
“Look, Elon [Musk] says we’ve definitely gone, so I tend to go that route, because he’s the man that knows quite a bit about all that.” he says.
There’s always a ‘but’, though, and DeChambeau is yet to be convinced by everything from the Apollo 11 lunar mission in 1969.
“I don’t think the footage is real,” he adds. “But I think we did go to the moon. I don’t know about the footage. It’s quite wild.”
(For context, later in the interview, DeChambeau says he believes in aliens.)
Then, seemingly remembering the final question, DeChambeau said: “Look, [winning] the Masters is something I’ve grown up always wanting to do. Going to the moon has been a recent content idea – although I wanted to go to space as a kid. So you’ve thrown me a curveball, but I’m going to say the Masters, just because it’s something I’ve dreamed of for a long time.”
…his relationship with Donald Trump
It is no secret that Trump and DeChambeau are close. Indeed, the golfer attended the President’s inauguration and has since been appointed to the White House Sports Council.
The pair have also played together a number of times – notably when Trump appeared on DeChambeau’s Break 50 YouTube series – and DeChambeau said the first time they teed up was “more nerve-wracking” than any putt he’s ever stood over to win a tournament, while he described playing with scores of Secret Service in attendance is “not comfortable”.
But this anecdote was perhaps the most telling of their somewhat strange friendship.
“He gives me a lot of crap about pickles,” DeChambeau said, before explaining that he was once having lunch with Trump when the wait staff put pickles on his sandwich despite his very specific request to leave them off.
“I got pretty intense,” DeChambeau gestures before reiterating that he demanded “no pickles”, much to Trump’s bemusement.
DeChambeaue continues: “And he said, ‘Now that is why you’re a major champion!’ Because I’d got pretty aggressive. So he gives me the pickles story every time I’m around him.”
Maybe just take pickles off next time, champ, rather than berating low-income staff.
…dating in the public eye
DeChambeau’s relationship status has seemingly been set to “it’s complicated” for a number of years.
He’s understood to be single, though he has been linked to a number of women over the years. When Miller asks if “girls slide into [his] DMs”, DeChambeau responds: “I’m in a different situation now.” Make of that what you will.
“But I’m 32, and I want a family,” he concludes, before noting that he wants “a bunch of kids – at least four”.