A Ball Drops. A President Smiles. And the Internet Calls Foul.
A whisper of a golf swing. A caddy’s hand—quick, almost imperceptible. Then, as if by magic, a golf ball materializes on the fairway… just where Donald Trump would want it.
This isn’t a magician’s trick. It’s a viral video from Trump’s prized Turnberry resort in Scotland—and it’s fueling a firestorm online.
Critics say it confirms what’s long been whispered and written: that Donald Trump doesn’t just bend the truth. He bends the rules. Especially on the green.
The footage, barely a few seconds long, shows a caddy subtly dropping a golf ball near Trump’s position before he even arrives. The implication? The lie may be as artificial as Trump’s hairline—or his denials. Within hours, hashtags like #CommanderInCheat were trending, resurrecting a familiar narrative about the former president’s sportsmanship, or lack thereof.
“He cheats at the game he loves. What do you think he does with the rest?” read one viral comment. Others labeled it a “live-action metaphor” for his political life.
But this clip isn’t just about golf. It’s become a lightning rod, raising broader questions: Is this a harmless gaffe, or a carefully placed distraction? Is the ball-drop a trivial act—or a reflection of how Trump operates in every arena, from boardrooms to briefing rooms?
Since leaving office, Trump’s swing hasn’t slowed. He’s played at least 45 rounds over the past 189 days, frequently escaping to Mar-a-Lago or his other plush courses. His recent trip to Scotland, though officially branded a “working visit,” has been more sand trap than summit—two rounds of golf, fleeting trade talks, and photo ops in tartan.
During his stay, Trump met with EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen on the course, hammering out a new trade agreement between the U.S. and the EU. Next up: rounds with UK Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer and Scotland’s First Minister John Swinney—tee times that double as trade talks.
Meanwhile, Trump has unveiled plans to expand his Scottish golf empire with a new 18-hole course at his Menie estate, stoking criticism that he’s prioritizing his personal business under the guise of diplomacy.
This is not the first time Trump’s golfing ethics have been called into question. Commander in Cheat, Rick Reilly’s tell-all book, details countless alleged infractions, from moving balls to fudging scores. Reilly claims caddies at Winged Foot dubbed Trump “Pele” for his habit of kicking the ball back into play.
Others have shared similar experiences—actor Samuel L. Jackson, LPGA pro Suzann Pettersen—each accusing Trump of stretching the rules in ways that would get most players kicked off the course.
Trump, for his part, has denied every accusation. His aides insist the Scotland trip is about diplomacy, not divots. The White House has downplayed the viral clip, calling it a distraction.
But distractions have a way of revealing deeper truths.
Conclusion:
Whether the video shows intent or illusion, it has reignited questions about Donald Trump’s approach to honesty—on the course and beyond. His golfing exploits have long been a symbol of something bigger: a man who plays by his own rules, reshaping reality with a grin and a driver. As viral footage loops across screens worldwide, it may not matter where that golf ball landed. What matters is what it suggests about how Trump plays every game—quietly, strategically, and always to win.