Tiktok
How a UK Creator Made Golf Go Viral (Without Taking It Seriously)
If you’ve ever scrolled TikTok and stumbled upon golf content that doesn’t feel like a snoozefest, chances are you’ve seen Louis. Forget your typical stiff, overly technical golf tutorials—this UK creator turned the sport into viral entertainment. Under the handle @club_louis (though he’s also known as Club Face UK), he’s built something rare: a space where golf finally feels accessible, funny, and downright shareable. With over 1.25 million followers across platforms—and the biggest golf-focused TikTok audience in Europe—he’s proving that you don’t need to be a pro to enjoy the game.
Louis’s secret sauce? His content feels like hanging out with your relatable mate who just happens to swing a club. Instead of dry swing analyses, he’ll film himself attempting trick shots in a soggy local park while cracking jokes about his "divot game" being stronger than his dating life. One viral clip shows him using a toaster as a golf ball retriever in a flooded pond—absurd, yes, but it racks up 2 million views because it’s *real*. He’s not afraid to lean into the chaos: slipping on wet grass, bickering with his caddy (his equally unimpressed dog, occasionally), or filming midnight practice sessions under streetlights. It’s golf, but make it Gen Z.
The numbers back up the buzz. He’s hit 60 million views in a single month, no small feat for a niche sport. But what’s wilder? His live streams regularly pull 200,000 viewers—a crowd bigger than most pro tournaments. During one rainy broadcast, he hosted a "worst swing competition" where followers submitted cringey attempts, turning passive viewers into active participants. You can tell he’s not just chasing clout; he’s built a community where novices feel welcome to try golf without the intimidating "golf-speak" older creators cling to.
Behind the laughs, Louis’s hustle is low-key inspiring. He started posting during lockdowns after friends filmed him messing around at the driving range, and now he’s collaborating with brands like Callaway—not as a polished spokesperson, but as the guy who’ll demo clubs while complaining about his muddy spikes. He still shoots most videos on his phone, often in the same faded hoodie, keeping it raw. No fancy studios, no scripts. Just him, a ball, and whatever joke he’s mumbling to himself mid-swing.
What makes Louis matter isn’t just the views—it’s how he’s reshaping who golf *is* for. He’s pulling in teens who’d never set foot near a country club, and older players admitting, "My grandad follows him now." Golf’s had an image problem for decades, but Louis treats it like a playground, not a boardroom. You don’t need to know what a "shank" is to laugh when he yells, "That’s going straight to the *lost and found*!" In a world of overproduced content, he’s the reminder that sometimes, the best stuff happens when you just hit play and keep it human.