For more than three decades, the back nine of TPC Summerlin turned into something Tournament Hills residents didn't choose and couldn't avoid. Grandstands rose along holes 16 through 18. Television trucks lined up outside the clubhouse. Gallery ropes went up along fairways that, every other week of the year, belonged to a private membership and the homes built against them. That week is gone now, and it isn't coming back.
The tournament that once brought Tiger Woods his first PGA Tour win in 1996, and that ran continuously in Las Vegas since 1983, ended after the 2024 event. Shriners Children's, the title sponsor since 2007, chose not to renew. The PGA Tour confirmed the split that October, and when the 2025 FedExCup Fall schedule came out that December, Las Vegas wasn't on it. For the first time in more than four decades, the tour had no stop in this city, and TPC Summerlin, the only PGA Tour venue Nevada has ever had, went quiet.
If you live along that course, this isn't a story about golf. It's a story about what your street sounds like in mid-October now, two years running.
Why the Grandstands Aren't Coming Back
The ending wasn't sudden so much as it was overdue. In 2021, Shriners and the tour had signed a five-year agreement meant to keep the event in Las Vegas through 2026. That commitment didn't make it. After the 2024 tournament, where J.T. Poston edged Doug Ghim by a single stroke for the win, Shriners Children's vice president of sports Bob Roller thanked the tour for what he called an 18-year run as host and title sponsor, and the two sides parted without much public explanation.
The signs had been building. The purse dropped from $7.8 million in 2023 to $7 million in 2024, one of several fall events that saw its prize money shrink that year. When the tour released its revised fall calendar, the event simply wasn't there, and the Las Vegas Review-Journal reported that Las Vegas would go without a PGA Tour date in 2025 for the first time in 41 years. Players noticed. Scottie Scheffler said he thought there was always a place for Vegas in the game of golf. Rory McIlroy called it one of the biggest sports cities in America and said it would seem like a miss for the tour not to have a presence there. Neither comment changed the schedule.
As of this writing, no sponsor or tour date has been announced to bring the event back. This coming October will be the second in a row without it.
The One Week Anyone Could Walk This Course
TPC Summerlin is a private club, built in 1991 to a Bobby Weed design with input from Fuzzy Zoeller, and membership access has always been the point. What the tournament did, for one week every fall, was open the gates. Spectators who would never otherwise set foot past the pro shop could walk the same fairways that back up to Tournament Hills, watch play from the hill overlooking the closing holes, and see the course the way members see it every other day of the year.
That access ended when the sponsorship did. There's no longer a week when the general public gets to see what residents see from their own backyards. The course reverted, fully and permanently, to a private amenity. For the roughly 130 custom homes in Tournament Hills, most built between 1993 and 2001 directly against the course, that means the view out the back window is now consistently what it used to be only 51 weeks a year.
What Filled the Gap
The gap wasn't filled by a bigger event. It was filled by a much smaller one. TPC Summerlin still hosts private outings throughout the year, and one is scheduled for Monday, October 5, 2026, a charity golf event with a $1,000 per-player entry fee. Compare that to what October used to look like:
- Before 2025: a PGA Tour field, national television coverage, tens of thousands of spectators over tournament week, and grandstands built along the closing holes.
- Now: a single-day private outing with a capped field, no public gallery, and no broadcast presence.
The difference isn't in what replaced the tournament. It's in how little did. A $1,000 buy-in charity round is a normal fixture at a club like TPC Summerlin. It isn't a substitute for a PGA Tour stop, and nobody involved is pretending it is.
What October Actually Looks Like Now
Without a tournament to build the month around, the fall routine in Tournament Hills has settled into something closer to the rest of the year, just with better weather. Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, a short drive from the neighborhood, hits its best hiking stretch as October temperatures drop from summer highs, and residents who spent September avoiding the trails start using them again. Downtown Summerlin, with its retail corridor and the Las Vegas Ballpark and City National Arena nearby, picks up the foot traffic that used to compete with tournament parking and shuttle logistics. Closer to home, Bruce Trent Park and the Hills Park see the same walkers and dog owners they see every other month, without a week of detours around gallery ropes and media credential checkpoints.
None of this is dramatic, and that's the point. The month that used to require planning around road closures and crowd surges now looks like September or November. If you want a sense of how the rest of Summerlin fills its fall calendar without a PGA Tour event anchoring it, our look at daily life across Summerlin's villages and parks covers the same seasonal rhythm from a wider angle.
The Trade Nobody Announced
Las Vegas lost something real when the tour left. A permanent PGA Tour date brought national visibility, brought business to hotels and restaurants across the valley, and gave the city a golf event with real history attached to it, including Tiger Woods' first PGA Tour win and three Jim Furyk titles. That loss is genuine, and it's the version of this story most golf writers have covered.
But that isn't the version that matters if you live on this course. For the people whose homes sit along the fairways TPC Summerlin built its reputation on, the departure of the Shriners Children's Open didn't create a vacancy. It returned something. The club is quieter. The course is private again, all year, not just 51 weeks of it. The neighborhood's October now resembles its June, its March, its any other month, and for a community of roughly 130 homes that was never built to host a spectator event in the first place, that's less a loss than a return to form.
If you're weighing what life actually looks like in a guard-gated Summerlin community like Tournament Hills, from the seasonal rhythm to the way a private club shapes daily routine, the team at Darin Marques Group knows this neighborhood block by block. Reach out when you're ready to talk about what it's really like to live here, not just what the listing photos show.
