I still remember when Full Swing first landed on Netflix. The anticipation felt almost childlike—like Christmas morning, eyeing the biggest present under the tree and knowing it would deliver. Season one did exactly that. It pulled back the curtain on professional golf in a way the sport had never quite allowed before. Suddenly, viewers weren’t just watching from outside the ropes; we were inside them.
The timing was impeccable. The emergence of the LIV Golf circuit provided a narrative spine rich with tension and uncertainty. Players who defected from the PGA Tour were given a platform to explain themselves, often with surprising candor. Brooks Koepka—long perceived as impenetrable—revealed vulnerability and doubt. Meanwhile, Joel Dahmen emerged as the everyman hero, instantly becoming the most famous “non-famous” golfer in the world. It was compelling, fresh, and, for many of us, utterly unmissable. Conversations about the series spilled into offices and clubhouses alike.
Season two, released in 2024, leaned further into the sport’s civil war. The friction between the PGA Tour and LIV Golf deepened, with Rory McIlroy positioned as the de facto spokesperson for traditional golf’s resistance. His perspective—already well documented—was explored with greater nuance, offering viewers a clearer sense of both conviction and fatigue.
The season also pivoted toward the drama of the Ryder Cup in Rome. Selection debates, emotional highs and lows, and the tournament itself provided fertile ground. Keegan Bradley’s disappointment at missing out felt raw and immediate, while Justin Rose’s joy at making the team carried genuine emotional weight. It was storytelling that resonated.
By the time season three arrived in 2025, however, there were signs the series was turning onto its back nine. The formula remained intact, but the freshness had faded. Familiar themes resurfaced with different faces, and for the first time, the urge to binge every episode simply wasn’t there.
Then came season four, released in April 2026—and with it, a sense of anticlimax. A truncated run of just four episodes raised eyebrows from the outset. One might have hoped for longer, more in-depth installments or, at the very least, tightly packed storytelling filled with new insights. Instead, what we got felt thin. The same narratives, the same personalities, and little in the way of revelation. Even the behind-the-scenes access to another Ryder Cup cycle—surely a goldmine of drama—felt curiously underexplored.
At its best, Full Swing redefined how golf could be presented to a global audience. It humanized its stars, contextualized its conflicts, and brought new fans into the game. But all formats have a shelf life, and this one now appears to have reached its natural conclusion.
It was a thrilling ride—particularly in those first two seasons—and the concept deserves credit for what it achieved. But as the final credits roll, it feels like the right moment to step away.
Thank you, Full Swing.