If you walked onto the 1st tee at Trump National Doral this week, you probably didn't notice the bunkers first. Instead, you were likely blinded by "Don Colossus." It’s a 15-foot, gold-leafed monument of Donald Trump, standing tall against the Florida sky just in time for the 2026 Cadillac Championship. It’s loud. It’s shiny. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a man who once suggested his face belonged on Mount Rushmore.
But while supporters see a bold tribute, critics are hitting the panic button, drawing immediate and unflattering parallels to the giant bronze cult-of-personality statues found in Pyongyang.
The statue that almost didn't happen
This isn't just a piece of decor someone picked up at a garden center. The statue has a weirdly dramatic backstory. Created by Ohio sculptor Alan Cottrill, the figure—officially titled "Don Colossus"—was actually in legal limbo for months. A group of cryptocurrency investors originally commissioned the thing to promote a memecoin. Then, as often happens in the world of crypto and Trump, people stopped paying their bills.
Cottrill held the statue hostage for a while, claiming the investors owed him for intellectual property rights and labor. Apparently, those disputes got settled because the 15-foot giant is now firmly planted at Doral. It’s positioned as a "tribute," but in the world of professional golf, it’s a lightning rod.
The North Korea comparison
You can't put up a massive, shimmering likeness of a living political leader without people bringing up the Kim dynasty. It’s the ultimate authoritarian aesthetic. In North Korea, the Mansu Hill Grand Monument features 65-foot statues of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il. They're designed to inspire awe, fear, and a sense of "dear leader" permanence.
Seeing a gold-plated Trump at a golf course triggers that same visceral reaction for a lot of people. It’s not just about art; it's about the message of individual worship. When you're standing in front of a 15-foot gold version of yourself, you’re not just a golfer or a businessman. You’re trying to be an icon. Social media is already flooded with side-by-side photos of Doral and Pyongyang. The resemblance in "energy" is hard to ignore, even if you like the guy.
Why Doral and why now
The timing here is key. The PGA Tour is back at Doral for the Cadillac Championship, a move that already raised eyebrows given the tour’s previous efforts to distance itself from Trump’s politics. By plopping a literal golden idol right in the middle of the event, Trump (or the group that put it there) is forcing the hand of the golf establishment.
You can't film a tournament at Doral now without catching a glimpse of the gold. It’s a brilliant, if obnoxious, branding move. It says, "I'm still here, and I'm bigger than the game."
The "Gold Boy" versus "Don Colossus"
Golf fans might remember "Gold Boy," the weird mascot from TPC Sawgrass in 2022. People hated that thing because it felt corporate and soulless. "Don Colossus" is different. It’s intensely personal. It’s not a mascot; it’s a statement of ownership.
Supporters argue that it’s just fun, over-the-top Americana. They’ll tell you that if Michelangelo were alive today, he’d be doing stuff like this. Critics, however, see it as the final evolution of a political movement that has moved past policy and into straight-up deity territory.
What this means for the tournament
Honestly, the players are probably going to hate it. Golf is a game of focus, and it’s hard to focus on your putting line when a giant gold face is staring at you from across the fairway. It also puts the PGA Tour in a spot where they have to answer questions about political symbols instead of talking about birdie counts.
If you’re heading to Doral, don't expect a quiet walk in the park. You're entering a space where the brand is the boss. Whether you think it’s a masterpiece or a terrifying display of ego, you can’t look away.
If you want to see it for yourself, it's currently positioned near the clubhouse area. Just bring sunglasses. The Florida sun hitting 15 feet of gold leaf is enough to give anyone a permanent squint. If you're a critic, maybe just stay in the grill room and keep your eyes on the menu. This statue isn't going anywhere soon.
