MONTREAL — Redemption beckoned, 15 feet away. Tom Kim had willed a spirit into existence by showmanship and emotion and gumption into this Presidents Cup—a spirit this event has desperately craved—yet his Saturday night had threatened to tear it all down, a self-destruction that validated every criticism, both real and arbitrary, that had been lobbed toward Kim and his theatrics. But Kim had a chance to have the final say, coming back from 2 down in his match against Sam Burns, and a win on the 18th hole stood 15 feet away. The putt never scared the hole. It wasn’t a loss, not technically, with the match ending in a tie, but for a man who was an exclamation mark most of this week, Kim leaves Canada with a curious question mark.

The Americans entered Sunday up four points, playing singles to a fate that had already been decided, which is why Kim’s Saturday drama remained the main story on the ground in Montreal. It’s not that Kim was materially wrong Saturday evening when he accused American players of unsportsmanlike conduct in his match against Patrick Cantlay and Xander Schauffle; that Ben An took a run at Wyndham Clark hours later, corroborating Kim’s allegations. However, set aside Kim’s accusation and its brazen lack of self-awareness, given his own antics at Royal Montreal, Kim complaining about bush-league behavior is like the cast member of the Real Housewives calling someone dramatic. No, Kim’s real sin was breaking one of sport’s cardinal unwritten rules:

Run your mouth all you want. But you better back it up, and be able to take the smack back.

It can be unfair to lionize art while simultaneously criticizing how it was sculpted, and by who. Make no mistake, what Kim has put forth this week has been performative, and we say that in the most positive connotation possible. This event is 30 years old, and most of this span the Presidents Cup has been marked by apathy. From fans, and frankly from players: Jason Day, one of the top International players over the past decade, admitted earlier this week than he never really gave a damn about this match.

Tom Kim celebrates on the 15th green in his Sunday singles loss.

JARED C TILTON

Kim? He missed the memo about indifference when he rolled into Quail Hollow for the 2022 Presidents Cup, treating the event with an excitement and electricity normally reserved for other big-time sports. His yells and arm-pumps could be a little over-the-top, but it was fun watching him have fun, and refreshing to see a golfer understand that sports is not just competition but entertainment. That he seemed to be a prodigy on the precipice of stardom only amplified the fervor that surrounded him.

Two years later, Kim … well, he’s just 22, although he might not have the career trajectory projected then. But the South Korean remains a talent, and has no aversion to displaying the passion he has for this event. Through the first three sessions, that was mostly a good thing: Every swing was met with a club twirl, every made putt with emphatic gestures and screams, every step Kim did everything he could to make those outside the ropes feel like they were part of the proceedings. Occasionally it stepped over the line, like when Kim barked in Scottie Scheffler’s Thursday opening session. On the whole, it was harmless and good-natured, and the Internationals seemed to finally have a fireplug, and a face.

Saturday afternoon was a different story. Tom Kim and Si Woo Kim got a tad lost in the sauce, their reactions teetering between excessive and unreasonable. He also mimicked measuring a putt he felt should be conceded twice, clearly feeling his manhood was questioned. Which in itself is forgivable, and even the criticism was a compliment: Conjuring animus from the opposite side is a badge of honor, for it’s not worth loathing what does not matter. Moreover, there’s no doubt the effect Kim was having on fans, who were loving his flamboyance and the audacity that spurred it.

But a lot can be learned about a competitor in defeat, and Kim—at least on Saturday—failed the test, appearing to deflect some of the blame for his crushing loss by throwing the U.S. team on the bus.

“I think the start of the round was definitely a little harder, but as it got towards the end, it got a little feisty out there. I could hear some players cursing at us,” Kim said. “… I don’t think there was good sportsmanship there. But it’s all part of the fun. I understand it.”

Kim doubled-down later, remarking, “You see me out there throwing fist pumps and jumping on the green. It’s all part of it, I get it. I just don’t think there’s a need to look at someone and curse at them. I just don’t think there’s a need for it.”

For their part, Cantlay and Schauffele weren’t having it. “I felt like Pat and I, we treated the Kims with the utmost respect,” Schauffele said. “We’re trying to quiet the crowds down when they were hitting. We’re trying to quiet the crowd—go back on film, quiet the crowds down when we were hitting. It was fair take, give and go.” Even if what Kim said was true, saying your peace then, after doing what you just did, what not the time or place. In short: Don’t feign ignorance at the saliva on your face after spitting into the wind.

Of course, Tom’s words are only part of the equation, and can ultimately be set aside if his bite matched his bark. With the Internationals continuing to lack the depth of their American counterparts, it’s imperative the global team’s frontline stars take care of business. Kim didn’t play poorly, but you are what your record says, and Kim’s reads 1-2-1 for the week. To his credit, Kim battled back from a deficit and made things interesting Sunday afternoon, making a birdie at the 15th and nearly acing the par-3 17th. But for the Internationals to have any chance they absolutely, unequivocally needed a W from Kim.

Worse, it was clear Burns was going to make Kim pay for his actions and words, making Kim putt out nearly everything on the day. Perhaps it’s no surprise that for the better part of his round, Kim was muted, looking very much like a child who had been in time-out.

And that’s where Kim’s behavior and words look particularly poor. Because anyone can be a bad man when things are good. What makes a bad man bad is standing firm in the storm, and in Royal Montreal, Kim has been blown into the St. Lawrence River.

Some of this can be chalked up to youth. It’s also not to paint Kim in an unredeemable light. His outward energy and enthusiasm, his engagement with those watching, are traits golf sorely lacks. Any plans of this event enjoying a viable, formidable future include Kim in the blueprint.

But if the 2022 Presidents Cup defined Kim, the 2024 match rewrote the narrative. And Kim has no one to blame but the man who authored it. Himself.

This article was originally published on golfdigest.com