David Muir Banned from VIP Golf Club, Then Buys the Entire Course in Two Minutes

In the manicured world of elite golf clubs, where collared shirts and tradition reign supreme, David Muir, the polished anchor of ABC World News Tonight, found himself on the wrong side of the fairway. Banned from a prestigious VIP golf club in Beverly Hills for breaking its strict dress code, Muir didn’t slink away quietly. Instead, in a move that stunned the club’s management and sent shockwaves through the golfing community, he purchased the entire course in a mere two minutes. The audacious act, executed with the same calm precision Muir brings to his nightly broadcasts, has sparked debates about privilege, rebellion, and the rigid rules of high-end golf. Here’s how it all unfolded on a sunny afternoon in 2025.

A Syracuse Kid in a Beverly Hills Club

David Muir, born in Syracuse, New York, in 1973, is no stranger to defying expectations. Growing up in a modest family, he turned a childhood passion for storytelling into a career that made him one of America’s most trusted journalists. With a net worth of $20 million and a lakeside retreat in Skaneateles, Muir has long balanced his down-to-earth roots with the trappings of fame. An avid golfer in his downtime, he’s been spotted on courses from Central New York to California, where his second home in Beverly Hills places him among the elite.

The Greystone Golf Club, a members-only haven in Beverly Hills, is known for its pristine fairways and A-list clientele. Its dress code is as unforgiving as its greens: collared shirts, tailored trousers, and soft-spiked shoes are non-negotiable. Golf clubs like Greystone pride themselves on exclusivity, often enforcing rules that feel more like a time capsule than a modern pastime. For Muir, a man accustomed to navigating high-pressure environments, a round at Greystone was meant to be a relaxing escape. But on that fateful day in May 2025, relaxation turned into rebellion.

The Ban That Sparked a Fire

Muir arrived at Greystone around noon, dressed in a sleek but casual outfit—think designer polo and premium denim—that clashed with the club’s rigid standards. As he approached the clubhouse, the manager, a stickler for protocol, intercepted him. “We have standards here,” the manager reportedly said, eyeing Muir’s jeans with disdain. “This isn’t a newsroom. Collared shirts and proper trousers are required.” Offered the chance to buy compliant attire from the pro shop, Muir declined with a polite but firm smile. “I’ll pass,” he said, according to a bystander. “I didn’t come here to play dress-up.”

The situation escalated when the manager, perhaps emboldened by the club’s elite status, made a cutting remark: “Maybe you’d be more comfortable at a public course.” For Muir, who’s faced war zones and White House press rooms, the jab was a miscalculation. Rather than argue, he nodded, turned on his heel, and left the clubhouse. But the story didn’t end there. Within minutes, Muir was on the phone, orchestrating a move that would turn the tables on Greystone’s gatekeepers.

A Two-Minute Power Play

Muir’s response was as swift as it was staggering. Leveraging his wealth and connections, he contacted a trusted financial advisor and a real estate mogul known for fast-tracking high-stakes deals. In a whirlwind of calls, Muir negotiated the purchase of Greystone Golf Club—lock, stock, and fairways—for an undisclosed sum rumored to be in the tens of millions. The transaction, finalized in an astonishing two minutes, was a masterclass in decisiveness. By the time the club’s management realized what was happening, Muir was the new owner, holding the keys to the very course that had just banned him.

The news hit Greystone like a sand trap explosion. Staff whispered in disbelief, and members—many of whom recognized Muir from their TV screens—were torn between shock and amusement. Muir returned to the course that same afternoon, strolling onto the first tee in his original outfit, a wry smile on his face. He played a full 18 holes, pausing to chat with groundskeepers and sign autographs for fans who’d caught wind of the saga. The manager who’d banned him was nowhere to be seen, reportedly taking an unscheduled day off.

The Sign That Sealed the Story

As a final flourish, Muir commissioned a new sign for the clubhouse, unveiled the next day. The sleek, bronze plaque read: “Greystone Golf Club: Where Every Swing Counts, No Matter the Style.” It was a subtle but pointed jab at the club’s outdated rules, signaling a new era under Muir’s ownership. The sign’s unveiling drew a crowd of members and media, with the owners of the diner Muir had saved earlier that year in Syracuse among the guests, invited as a nod to his pattern of giving back. The diner couple, still emotional from their own experience, reportedly teared up at Muir’s latest act of defiance and generosity.

The sign has since become a symbol of Muir’s approach: respectful of tradition but unafraid to challenge it. Under his ownership, Greystone’s dress code has been relaxed, allowing premium denim and modern golf attire while maintaining an air of sophistication. The move has drawn younger players to the club, boosting membership applications and sparking chatter about Muir’s potential to modernize golf’s stuffier corners.

Golf’s Culture Clash

Muir’s purchase comes at a time when golf is grappling with its identity. The sport’s elite clubs have long been criticized for rules that alienate newcomers, from bans on denim to restrictions on women and minorities. Stories of bans are not uncommon—teenagers have been suspended for minor infractions, and even celebrities like Bill Murray have faced scrutiny for their antics on the course. Muir’s bold move taps into a broader push to make golf more accessible, echoing debates about whether collared shirts and soft spikes truly define the game’s spirit.

In Syracuse, where Muir’s roots run deep, the story has been met with pride. Locals see it as another example of their hometown hero standing up for what’s right, much like his decision to save a struggling diner. On social media, fans have rallied behind Muir, with posts praising his “boss move” and calling for more clubs to rethink their gatekeeping. Critics, however, argue that only someone of Muir’s wealth could pull off such a stunt, pointing to the privilege that allowed him to buy his way out of a ban. The debate mirrors ongoing discussions about golf’s exclusivity, with many hoping Muir’s ownership will set a new tone.

Muir’s Broader Impact

This isn’t Muir’s first foray into making a difference. His $87,000 gift to a Syracuse diner that fed him in high school showed his commitment to repaying kindness. His philanthropy, often quiet, includes support for local causes in Central New York and mentorship for aspiring journalists at Ithaca College. On the course, Muir’s love for golf is evident in his relaxed demeanor, often playing with friends or his dog, Axel, trotting nearby. His purchase of Greystone isn’t just a flex—it’s a statement about using influence to challenge norms.

Under Muir’s leadership, Greystone is already seeing changes. He’s hired a diverse management team, introduced community golf clinics, and partnered with local schools to offer free lessons to kids. The club’s restaurant now serves Syracuse-inspired dishes, like salt potatoes, as a nod to his roots. Members report a more welcoming vibe, with Muir occasionally joining them for a drink at the clubhouse, his charm disarming even the staunchest traditionalists.

A Fairway Forward

David Muir’s two-minute takeover of Greystone Golf Club is more than a celebrity anecdote—it’s a challenge to the status quo. By turning a ban into an opportunity, Muir has redefined what it means to belong in golf’s elite circles. The sign above Greystone’s clubhouse stands as a testament to his vision: a game where passion and skill matter more than the cut of your pants. As Muir continues to anchor ABC World News Tonight, his off-screen moves are proving just as impactful, one swing at a time.

For golf fans and dreamers alike, a visit to Greystone offers a chance to walk the fairways where a newsman turned the tables on tradition. The story of Muir’s ban and buyout is already the stuff of legend, a reminder that sometimes, the best way to change the rules is to own the game.