The Battle for Public Golf's Future: Court vs. Administration Over 430 Trees Felled at East Potomac

I keep an old ledger. I bought it the week after the 2026 national final at MA Aziz Stadium, where I hand-timed a 100m sprint at 10.9 seconds with three watches spread 0.2 apart and no wind gauge. The chief timer made me rewrite the sentence twice until it said 'hand-timed, no wind reading.' That habit taught me a number without its method is worthless. So when I heard that at least 430 trees had been felled in a single weekend at East Potomac Golf Links — a 105-year-old municipal course in Washington, D.C. — my first question was about method. Who authorized it? On what paperwork? And where was the court-notification requirement?

My golf career began in the caddie shed at Kurmitola. In May 2026, after Siddikur Rahman won the Brunei Open, I called that shed at 6 a.m. because I knew the story starts in the pipeline, not the clubhouse. East Potomac took me to exactly that place — a course where players are not manufactured, but ordinary people come to play. Opened in 2026, it is not just a golf course; it is a recreation address for Washington's working people.

The real question is not about trees. It is about the limits of executive power. Federal Judge Reyes said in plain terms that the court's order was violated. The requirement was to notify the court at least 72 hours before any work. That requirement was broken, and bulldozers ran over a weekend. The judge has now threatened contempt of court and set a Tuesday 7 a.m. deadline.

This is where my 2026 Dhaka SAF Games experience comes in. In those eight days I learned that an event is not over before the final whistle — often the result is written before the gun. At East Potomac it is the same: a $20–49 million renovation project, including plans for a professional-grade golf complex, is being pushed through without congressional approval. The administration wants to make the course suitable for professional tournaments; preservationists argue it will destroy the public-access mission.

I have said many times that the stopwatch never lies, but the hand that holds it remembers. Here too — the number 430 is true, but who counted, by what method, is the real question. A non-profit called the National Links Trust manages the course. Its mission is affordable and sustainable public golf. But when the federal government directly intervenes to cut trees, the question arises: who owns a public asset? The administration, or the public?

The second thing that catches my eye — this is an unprecedented event. Normally, golf course renovation debates happen in local councils. But here a federal judge has intervened directly and summoned National Park Service Superintendent Kevin Griess to testify. This means the case will not be limited to the tree-cutting incident; it will reveal the inner workings of administrative decision-making.

In my 52-year career I have seen that the biggest weakness in sports governance is a lack of accountability. After the 2026 Bangladesh Open, I wrote about the 'one week versus fifty-one weeks' frame. The gap between the Asian Tour purse and a domestic BPGA winner's cheque is vast. The East Potomac story is part of that same frame: on one side, the dream of professional tournaments; on the other, the everyday golfer who stands on the tee box each morning.

I know many will think — this is not golf news, it is political news. But I say the future of golf is decided not in the clubhouse, but in the courtroom. If a 105-year-old public course can be changed by administrative order, the same could happen in other cities.

My last ledger entry was in May 2026 — Siddikur's Brunei Open win. That day I understood that one putt can change a nation. Judge Reyes's ruling at East Potomac could be such a moment — one that determines who public golf actually belongs to.

The next 72 hours will tell whether the administration obeys the court. If it does not, this will add a new chapter not just to golf history, but to American administrative law.