Good Good Golf faces retail pullback over controversial ad, but backlash may have gone too far

Good Good Golf, the YouTube channel that had become one of the most recognizable golf brands among younger players, found itself at the center of a firestorm this week after releasing an advertisement so poorly conceived that even its creators could not defend it. The ad, meant to parody the movie "Obsession," showed Garrett Clark, one of Good Good's founders, shoving a woman named Alexis Miestowski to the ground while saying "do not touch my new driver." It was meant to promote a new Callaway driver. Within days, the fallout had spread across the golf industry in ways that raised a harder question: had the response itself become disproportionate to the offense?

Good Good had built something substantial. The channel had secured major partnerships, including a deal with Callaway Golf to develop putters, clubs, and golf balls under the Good Good brand. Their apparel was stocked at Dick's Sporting Goods, Golf Galaxy, PGA Tour Superstore, and WorldWide Golf Shops locations like Roger Dunn in Southern California. They sold online through Target. They had sponsorship deals and a new television show in development called "Big Break X Good Good" set to air on Golf Channel. Then came the ad.

The backlash was immediate and fierce. Fans objected to the depiction of a man physically pushing a woman to the ground, and the video was taken down quickly. Good Good issued a statement acknowledging the mistake: "We posted a video to our channels that ultimately depicted actions that are not aligned with our values as a brand. We have since taken that content down. And sincerely apologize. Good Good has always stood for making the game of golf more inclusive to all, and we will continue to ensure that is our mission moving forward." Callaway Golf initially distanced itself, saying only that it was "disappointed" in the video. Then, at 1 a.m. Eastern time, the company issued a second statement admitting that it had actually approved the ad before its release—a significant detail that shifted some responsibility back onto the manufacturer.

The consequences accelerated. Golf Galaxy, which had been a title sponsor of the Golf Channel show, requested that its name be removed from the broadcast, forcing a delay in the premiere. Then, according to Front Office Sports, Dick's Sporting Goods, Golf Galaxy, and the PGA Tour Superstore all pulled Good Good merchandise from their shelves. Rumors circulated that the Good Good Championship, scheduled for Omni Barton Creek Resort & Spa's Fazio Canyons Course in Austin, Texas, could be canceled entirely. PGA Tour CEO Brian Rolapp weighed in, calling the situation "fluid" and expressing disappointment in how Good Good had initially responded. "I think their initial response was disappointing. It was a bit defensive and late," Rolapp said, though he acknowledged that recent conversations had shown some progress.

Garrett Clark posted a lengthy video to X on Wednesday taking accountability for his role in the ad, apologizing, and explaining that the concept had come from the marketing team. He confirmed repeatedly that the ad was a bad idea and that he had not actually struck anyone. The question that emerged, however, was whether the corporate response had overshot the actual harm. The ad was objectively terrible—no one disputed that. But was it truly an endorsement of violence against women, or a failed attempt at humor by a young content creator who had made a serious misjudgment?

The asymmetry in consequences became hard to ignore. Callaway Golf, which had approved the ad before release, faced no comparable punishment. Golf Galaxy and the PGA Tour Superstore continued to stock Callaway products without hesitation, a fact that suggested the retailers' actions were more performative than principled. Good Good also operated a YouTube channel called "Good Good Girls," which directly contradicted any suggestion that the company opposed women in golf. The channel had helped introduce thousands of young people to the sport, many of whom went on to watch PGA Tour events and become long-term fans of professional golf.

What had begun as justified criticism of a poorly executed advertisement had hardened into something that looked less like accountability and more like permanent exile. A week's delay for a television show might have been proportionate. Pulling merchandise from shelves, threatening to cancel a sponsored tournament, and treating the company as though it had committed an unforgivable sin seemed to belong to a different category of response. The golf industry had moved swiftly to distance itself, but in doing so, it had raised a question about whether the speed and severity of corporate backlash had become untethered from the actual offense.