Scottie Scheffler may see himself as more of an artist than a scientist but, at the start of last week, he admitted to teasing his coach with the suggestion that he is trying to be a robot. At which point he hurried to add, “I’m not playing games like I do on the Trackman at home … I’m playing a round of golf trying to shoot the lowest score possible.”
Yet when he was surging ahead of the rest of the field on the third day of the Open Championship at Royal Portrush, spectators could have been forgiven for wondering if the Scheffler game was too robotic.
Without a doubt, there were moments when his fans reminded you of the birdwatchers at the Aberlady Bay Local Nature Reserve on the approach to the Renaissance Club, site of the recent Genesis Scottish Open. Just as they can happily wait for hours, days or even weeks to spot a Caspian plover or a sharp-tailed sandpiper, so the Scheffler devotees are on red alert for that moment when their man has to do the impossible. Like extricating his ball from a tangle of rough halfway up a dune. He will often pull the shot off to perfection, and that’s when you can see from his facial expressions that he is a deal more human than robotic.
The way in which he can practically turn himself inside out to engineer the shot he has in mind is not exactly unique because players such as Rory McIlroy and Bryson DeChambeau can produce that same touch of magic. Robots, however, would appear to use the same swing every time. They may be very clever and useful to the club and ball manufacturers, but it’s hardly entertaining.
When, in 2016, a robot named LDRIC (after Eldrick “Tiger” Woods) made a hole-in-one on the 16th hole at TPC Scottsdale in advance of the Phoenix Open, he/she/it showed nothing in the way of Tyrrell-Hatton-type irritation when it had five attempts before getting the job done. And neither did it manage a smile when the sixth attempt was a success. (According to AI, robots have no emotions or will power and do not shed tears spontaneously.)
By one account, the fans cheered the robot with cans of beer but, even for those addicts, a single robotic ace was probably enough.
Where a top robot and the 2025 Open champion are pretty much on a par is in judging long putts. Scheffler visualises which line the ball should take and, after checking that his caddie is in agreement, he knocks it in. It’s the same again with his approach shots. He will assess the length with an extraordinary degree of accuracy, and doesn’t have to rely on those little bump-and-run shots from off the back or sides of the green to the same extent as many another.
As for Scheffler, he is definitely robotic in the way he comes up with the same results over and over. Only unlike a robot, he has everyone shaking their heads in disbelief at his brand of brilliance.
As to who would make the better speech, the robot would probably have the edge. It was not that Scheffler failed to thank all the right people at Portrush – just that someone in his position needed to leave us with the impression that he found winning rather more of a thrill than he had led us to believe at the start of the week. Mind you, his baby, Bennett, was something of a trump card as he padded out to examine the trophy and fell flat on his face. The robot, for its part, would have been able to dip into what Justin Leonard had to say after his win in the 1997 Open at Royal Troon; and into those heartfelt comments of Tiger Woods following his comeback victory at the 2019 Masters. Similarly, Rory’s speech at Augusta this year was one to savour.
If you are wondering how the robot comparisons had come about in the first place, it all started when McIlroy had seized a chance ahead of the Scottish Open to hit a persimmon wood of the ’70s or ’80s. When he was asked if he was enough of an artist to have played golf in any era, his reply, as expected, was that he thought it would not have been a problem. Typically Rory, he then had second thoughts, saying that today’s players, himself included, would probably be defined as scientists.
Rory needs to cross himself from the list. He is 100 percent an artist and that’s why his fans go so mad about him. As for Scheffler, he is definitely robotic in the way he comes up with the same results over and over. Only unlike a robot, he has everyone shaking their heads in disbelief at his brand of brilliance.
In other words, things are much the same as they are in the world of tennis, with McIlroy the equivalent of an exuberant Carlos Alcaraz, and Scheffler something of a Jannik Sinner.
And isn’t that just what people want – to have the two top players of the day so very different?