LYDIA KO INVITES US IN, BUT UNDER ONE CONDITION: Shoes off at the door, please. It makes sense when we step inside. Ko’s Orlando home, in the luxe community of Lake Nona, is suspiciously tidy on this February morning; like an Airbnb rental waiting for guests to arrive.
A lonely teapot sits on the sprawling white island that bisects the kitchen, but she shuffles it to the side, where tea fixings are neatly arranged on trays. Yellow rubber gloves hang over the faucet. There are no picture frames to be seen, no wedding invites tacked to the fridge. A vase filled with sunflowers decorates one countertop, but that’s it.
And that’s how it’ll be for awhile, because when the No. 3 female golfer in the world is done entertaining us on this February morning, she’s heading west and won’t be back for at least a month, maybe two. Season 13 on the LPGA Tour beckons, and, as ever, she isn’t sure how many more will follow.
Despite Ko’s minimalist inclinations — likely a nod to her Korean roots — one spot in the house remains unkempt because it’s constantly being added to: the trophy room. Clues about her life abound there, from the set of clubs she rode to Olympic silver in Rio to the paintings of Lake Merced — where she’s won three times — leaning against the wall. Even the bite marks on the windowsill mean something, but more on that later.
“I think I have a putter obsession,” Ko says, walking her fingers through the dozen or so mallets that fill two staff bags. Like a pop star’s framed platinum records, 10 different bags, each from a different season, line one wall, boxing her Peloton into a corner. Lining another are (most of) the trophies she’s claimed over the years. Some are relegated to the floor. Win 23 times and you run out of space.
Each piece of hardware comes with a story, but none of that silver is as eye-catching as the framed caricature of 15-year-old Ko that sits near the room’s entrance. In the drawing, her face is overwhelmed by the boxy eyeglasses she used to wear more than a decade ago, when the sport first fell in love with her. She half-snorts when I point it out.
“What do you think of when you see this version of yourself?” I ask.
“My mom says I was a better golfer then,” Ko says with a laugh.
“Was she right?”
She pauses, smiling. “Yes,” she finally says, conceding that just maybe golf was easier for her back then.