There is an endless array of issues that are soiling the pro golf landscape as 2024 tees off.

Obscene gobs of money bandied about by LIV Golf. Ludicrous piles of prize money countered by the PGA Tour. Rory McIlroy flip-flopping like Simone Biles. Signature Events that make it easier for the rich to get richer while needlessly creating an unseemly divide.

Your PGA Tour will soon be in business with the Saudis as well as a group of American billionaires who care only that golf delivers a massive ROI, and it’s up for debate as to which side brings a more ominous cloud.

Sigh.

With such a backdrop of debilitating news there is a need to find a soul with a lighthearted approach and an engaging perspective. A person, perhaps, who represents so much of what’s wonderful about golf and shares our fears for the future of the pro game.

Tony Johnstone, for instance.

Back in an era where camaraderie and competitiveness fueled the Sunshine Tour in South Africa and the European Tour – “I can honestly tell you that when I got to the first tee, not once did I know what the purse was” – Johnstone was a mainstay. Over a career of 20-plus years, the Zimbabwean won 17 times in South Africa and six more in Europe, including the 1992 British PGA.

Yet contrary to the reputation Johnstone had as a fiery competitor in his day, he has secured a loyal following for the way in which he offers commentary for Sky Sports – with a whimsical brilliance.

He rarely will tell you what you can clearly see for yourself – a golfer lines up a putt, a golfer misses a putt – but Johnstone finds immense enjoyment in surveying the landscape and working humor into the broadcast.

“When I first started (with TV) I was told ‘If we wanted comedy, we would have hired a comedian,’ ” laughed Johnstone. “I understood that, but I told them, ‘If we’re not allowed to have laughter, I’m out of here.

“I’ve always loved laughter.”

Perhaps that attitude helps explain how Johnstone has lived with the news that rocked his world in 2003. He woke up feeling as if he had slept in a bad position. “I had pins and needles up my arm,” he said. Tests followed, then did days when his memory “just disintegrated.”

In 2004, the jolt arrived: He was diagnosed with MS.

Then came this: “My doctor told me not much could be done, but there was a medical trial going on. They had room for just one more, if I was interested.”

Johnstone didn’t hesitate. He was in. In golf jargon, he made the cut on the number, but with profound appreciation he adds, “It’s the greatest cut I ever made.”

For 20 years Johnstone has lived with MS and he has not been denied his fair share of pleasures. Much of the fun, of course, has involved golf – a few years playing the Legends Tour in Europe (he won twice) and for nearly two decades he’s been part of Sky’s DP World Tour coverage – but few people in golf have stopped to smell the roses, listen to the birds, and admire the splendor of wildlife quite like Johnstone.

Followed by nearly 30,000 on X (formerly Twitter), Johnstone offers a “Saturday Soother,” a brilliant photograph of a leopard or a lion or an elephant – basically a majestic mammal whose presence should remind mere mortals that we don’t own this planet, we’re only sharing it.

As much as he cherishes journeys from his home in England to South Africa and trips to Kruger Park, Leopard Creek or “the bush,” what provides a priceless sense of peace are hours spent waiting patiently to photograph birds. “I got into photographing them around 2000,” said Johnstone. “They’re so beautiful. There isn’t anything much better than sitting in solitude for 20-30 minutes, eyes closed, just listening to birds. It brightens the heart.”

Always, golf has brightened Johnstone’s heart. Blessed to have had friendships with golfers of immense character (Nick Price, Mark McNulty) and those who were treasured characters (Simon Hobday, Dale Hayes), Johnstone cherishes those days when he would stroll the range and let the barbs fly.

“Everyone got abused by everyone,” said Johnstone. “We knew you could only be that rude to the ones you loved.”

The thirst for competition drove Johnstone, but equally important was the camaraderie and the pure love of the game. So years later when he bumped into a young pro who told Johnstone, “I only play golf for the money,” the man from Zimbabwe cringed.

“I wanted to say to him, ‘How sad,’ but I just shook my head,” said Johnstone, who used to pinch himself to make sure his world wasn’t a dream.

“I mean, we all felt so fortunate. We would hit a ball around a field and into a hole – which we loved to do – and we got paid to do it.”

But now? LIV has doled out ludicrous sums of money, PGA Tour purses have skyrocketed, and Johnstone, like so many colleagues of his era, is saddened to think that players actually believe they are worth this sort of money.

All of it is indeed disheartening, which makes Johnstone’s presence more needed than ever.

“At a time when the world of pro golf seems upside down and things appear to be so contentious,” said Price, “Tony remains a breath of fresh air, humble and whimsical, honest and candid.”

To shake free of the angst that comes when he is asked about LIV and the state of the pro golf landscape, Johnstone has an easy remedy: He focuses on how he has been able to live wonderfully with MS, how “I’ve been enchanted my whole life and I’ve squeezed as much out of life as I can.”

The peaceful times listening to birds . . . posting photos of a Waxwing or a Broad-billed roller or a Violet-backed starling . . . a humorous quip during a Sky broadcast . . . another joyous trip back home to tour Kruger Park and cuddle with his three grandchildren . . .

It's the world Tony Johnstone cherishes and he confirms that all of it is owed to golf. “Such a magical game.”