Junior golf in the Philippines is booming — but the real story often unfolds off the course, behind the ropes, among the parents. They bankroll dreams, manage expectations, and, in many ways, shape the culture of the sport.
The typical Filipino golf parent is part financier, part chauffeur, part psychologist, part unofficial coach, part caddie — and everything in between.
With the Junior Golf Foundation of the Philippines (JGFP) driving the movement, tournaments now happen almost weekly nationwide. Mindanao has just wrapped up its Interschool series. Three days before Christmas, the JGFP will stage a Parent-Child tournament at Camp Aguinaldo Golf Course, followed by another in Davao City just three days after New Year.
The contributions of parents to junior golf cannot be overstated; they are the ones who keep the JGFP running.
The JGFP is not a perfect organization, but it gets the job done — despite the brickbats and routine bashing it takes.
Parents of junior golfers — though certainly not all — can also be among the hardest to please. With the time and money they invest in their kids, some inevitably feel that the system owes them something.
It shows in subtle ways: asking for preferred tee times, questioning officials over every ruling, lobbying for special treatment, or pressuring coaches and captains for team spots that merit alone can’t justify. Even golf carts can become a battleground. Many also want a say in how tournaments are run — from pairings to tee-mound setup.
The trouble is, the JGFP often tries to accommodate most of these requests. That unintentionally fuels entitlement — a trait that, sadly, has become all too common.
Junior golfers absorb all of this, and instead of owning a double bogey, they learn to blame slow greens, “unfair” pairings, tee boxes, or imagined bias.
Over time, resilience erodes. The sport’s most valuable lesson — accountability — gets buried under the belief that someone else is always at fault.
Ironically, parents who invest so much can end up undermining the very mental toughness they hope to build.
You see it at awards tables and scoring tents. A child quietly signs for an 82, while a parent storms off to argue about pin positions or the difference between tee mounds for boys and girls. That score doesn’t just go on the card; it becomes a family grievance.
Hey, losing is okay. Adversity is your friend. Disappointments push you to work harder. Tiger Woods didn’t develop his skill and will to win overnight; he lost far more than he won as a junior and used those experiences to become one of the greatest golfers the sport has ever seen.
Many ask why Thailand is light-years ahead of the Philippines — not just in results, but in how its system hardens kids instead of pampering them.
This isn’t luck. Thailand has built a clear, layered system: strong junior circuits, a domestic women’s tour, robust coaching, and regular international competition at home. For Thai kids, seeing LPGA stars in person and progressing through a visible pathway from junior events to professional tours is normal.
Merit is measurable — scores, not connections, move you forward. In a deep field, entitlement struggles to survive.
The contrast with the Philippines is hard to ignore.
The Philippines doesn’t need rocket science to close the gap. It needs clearer pathways — better-funded junior tours, stronger links between clubs and schools, and consistent support for international competition. A reliable domestic ladder from grassroots to pro levels would make advancement something earned, not negotiated.
On the parental side, it begins with mindset. Support must remain high, but entitlement low. Let the scorecard speak louder than social media posts. Treat organizers, officials, and fellow juniors with respect, even in disappointment. Focus on process — routines, attitude, course management — rather than obsessing over trophies and rankings.
Parents will always be central to junior golf. The choice is whether they become accelerators of growth or amplifiers of entitlement. That choice will shape not only the next generation of national players, but the kind of people this sport sends into the world.