PORTRUSH, NORTHERN IRELAND | Scottie Scheffler has questions.
Deep questions. Revealing questions. Window-into-his-soul questions.
Is this all there is?
And if it is, why does he care so much about it?
And when he wins, which he does frequently, why doesn’t the feeling last?
Should Scheffler win this Open Championship at Royal Portrush – he is the pre-tournament favorite – would it really change anything other than the list of accomplishments on his rare résumé?
And, when he doesn’t win, why does it gnaw at him like it does?
At the end of a perfunctory pre-tournament media session Tuesday, after answering questions about the challenges of playing links golf and how he deals with jet lag, Scheffler turned a final question about the longest celebration he’s had after a victory into what felt like a stream-of-consciousness soliloquy about finding the meaning in what he does better than anyone else.
“There’s a lot of people that make it to what they thought was going to fulfill them in life, and you get there, you get to No. 1 in the world, and they’re like what’s the point? I really do believe that because what is the point? Why do I want to win this tournament so bad?” Scheffler began.
“That’s something that I wrestle with on a daily basis. It’s like showing up at the Masters every year; it’s like why do I want to win this golf tournament so badly? Why do I want to win the Open Championship so badly?
“I don’t know because, if I win, it’s going to be awesome for two minutes. Then we’re going to get to the next week, hey, you won two majors this year; how important is it for you to win the FedEx Cup playoffs? And we’re back here again.
“So we really do; we work so hard for such little moments. I’m kind of sicko; I love putting in the work. I love getting to practice. I love getting to live out my dreams. But at the end of the day, sometimes I just don’t understand the point.”
For all that the outside world ascribes to Scheffler and his extended run of dominance, he is driven by the pursuit of his craft more than the rewards, though he understands they are inextricably tied together.
Scheffler is not the first to ask such questions. David Duval famously looked around from his perch atop the game after winning the 2001 Open Championship and asked similar questions.
In the past two months, Rory McIlroy has wrestled with what to do when you’ve accomplished your life’s goal as a 36-year-old.
For all that the outside world ascribes to Scheffler and his extended run of dominance, he is driven by the pursuit of his craft more than the rewards, though he understands they are inextricably tied together.
Scheffler has said more than once – and he reiterated it Tuesday morning – that he gets his greatest pleasure in golf through practice. He loves the feeling of winning but finds it ephemeral. An hour after the trophy presentation, the feelings have subsided and it’s off to dinner or a flight home to start all over again.
On the surface, Scheffler comes across as borderline stoic unless he’s smiling at something his caddie Ted Scott might say to him. He has cultivated the art of internalizing his feelings, particularly the frustrations that are inevitable in every round of golf.
The fire, however, burns with a rare heat. For Scheffler, it may be more about the journey than the destination because once one tournament week ends, another awaits.
Though he was born in New Jersey, Scheffler is a Texan through and through, which is why winning the CJ Cup Byron Nelson in his hometown of Dallas earlier this year felt as big to him as anything he’s done.
At the same time, what Scheffler described as the “euphoric” feeling of winning was gone before sundown.
“To win the Byron Nelson championship at home, I literally worked my entire life to become good at golf to have an opportunity to win that tournament. You win it, you celebrate, get to hug my family, my sister’s there, it’s such an amazing moment. Then it’s like, OK, what are we going to eat for dinner? Life goes on,” Scheffler said.
“Is it great to be able to win tournaments and to accomplish the things I have in the game of golf? Yeah, it brings tears to my eyes just to think about because I’ve literally worked my entire life to be good at this sport. To have that kind of sense of accomplishment, I think, is a pretty cool feeling.
“To get to live out your dreams is very special, but at the end of the day, I’m not out here to inspire the next generation of golfers. I’m not out here to inspire someone to be the best player in the world because what’s the point? This is not a fulfilling life. It’s fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart.”
For Scheffler, the fulfillment is more personal. Asked what he reads, Scheffler said he has a devotional he reads on his iPad and he keeps the Bible close. As for golf books, he’s skimmed a couple of design books but they didn’t keep his attention.
He is driven to be who he is, a good husband and father, who isn’t swayed by his good days or bad days on the golf course. When he heads to practice, Scheffler said his wife Meredith thanks him for the work he puts in and he thanks her when he gets home for doing what she does with their son, Bennett.
“I’m blessed to be able to come out here and play golf, but if my golf ever started affecting my home life or it ever affected the relationship I have with my wife or my son, that’s going to be the last day that I play out here for a living.” – Scottie Scheffler
Golf stays on the outside by design.
“I’m blessed to be able to come out here and play golf, but if my golf ever started affecting my home life or it ever affected the relationship I have with my wife or my son, that’s going to be the last day that I play out here for a living,” Scheffler said.
“This is not the be all, end all. This is not the most important thing in my life. That’s why I wrestle with, why is this so important to me? Because I’d much rather be a great father than I would be a great golfer. At the end of the day, that’s what’s more important to me.”
The irresistible pull remains, however. Tournament golf is built on losing more than winning and it’s too much for some players. This is what Scheffler has spent his life pursuing, from his days as a youngster wearing long pants to the course on sweltering summer days to now having three major championship trophies.
All the money and the celebrity hasn’t changed Scheffler from being the same guy who likes to go to the neighborhood coffee shop with his wife and have Chipotle for dinner once in a while. He lives the adage from the TV series “Friday Night Lights” that says clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
“When I sit back at the end of the year and try to reflect on things, like having that sense of accomplishment from winning the Masters Tournament, from winning the PGA Championship, I have a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation for it, but it’s just hard to explain how it doesn’t – it just doesn’t satisfy is how I would describe it. It’s an unsatisfying venture,” Scheffler said.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is this is not the place to look for your satisfaction. This is something where you can have a great appreciation for and … a great amount of thankfulness for being able to do this. It’s literally one of the most fun things I can do in my entire life. I love being able to come out here and compete, but at the end of the day, it’s not what satisfies me, if that makes sense.”