Spare a thought for the rest of them — the literally thousands of professional golfers whose lifelong dedication to the most torturous of sports has cost them unquantifiable time, money and extracts of their souls.
These men and women who would give it all up again three times over for that one perfect day, when the wind blows just right, all the putts catch lips and fall in, and their name is the one adorning the top of the leaderboard at sunset.
What were they to think when they saw Scottie Scheffler, the best player on the planet, tell the world that the view from the top wasn’t all that?
“It feels like you work your whole life to celebrate winning a tournament for like a few minutes,” Scheffler said a few days out from the first round of the Open Championship at Royal Portrush.
“It only lasts a few minutes, that kind of euphoric feeling.
“You win it, you celebrate, hug my family, my sister’s there, it’s an amazing moment. Then it’s like, OK, what we eating for dinner? Life goes on.”
Scottie Scheffler opened up in a pre-Open press conference. ( AP: Francisco Seco)
Scheffler’s five-minute stream-of-consciousness monologue in that press conference was remarkable. Even more so now that he has gone and wiped the floor with the field to win his first Open Championship title by four shots.
This victory was so total, and the gap between Scheffler and the rest of the world is now so great, that he can be held up alongside the great Tiger Woods without hyperbole.
By just about any measure or metric, Scheffler is the best since Tiger.
It’s there in the numbers, and in the numbers behind the numbers. It’s there in the relentless, suffocating winning, and in the ability to make a 54-hole lead feel like a foregone conclusion before Sunday even arrives.
It’s there in the testimony of those who would know, including Jim “Bones” Mackay — Phil Mickelson’s long-time caddy whose view of Tiger’s mastery was better than most — who said of Scheffler on Saturday: “I never thought in my lifetime I’d see a player as close to Tiger as this man currently is.”
Scheffler plays and wins like Tiger did. Tiger reached global mega-stardom thanks to his charisma and ability to produce the spectacular when required, but for the most part, his major victories were built on a tasteful monotony.
Hit the fairway, hit the middle of the green, one-putt for birdie or two-putt for par. Nothing flashy, nothing silly. Let the others make their mistakes as they get lost and dizzy in the churn of your orbit.
Without the “Tiger-mania” factor, Scheffler has often come across as a dry and unengaging champion, unique only for the excessive footwork in his apparently foolproof swing.
Scottie Scheffler was unflappable and frequently brilliant at Royal Portrush. (Getty Images: David Cannon)
But in one press conference, Scheffler has changed perceptions. Here is a man who almost feels guilty for how much he likes golf, terrified it might one day interfere with the things that provide fulfilment in the “deepest places of your heart”.
He is addicted to winning, but he’s not sure why, and he kind of wishes he wasn’t. By his own admission, he will give this career away should it ever begin to adversely impact his relationship with his wife, Meredith, or his 14-month-old son, Bennett.
In this sense, without putting too fine a point on it, Scheffler is the anti-Tiger.
Nothing in the universe has ever mattered as much to Tiger as winning golf tournaments. It consumed him, created him, propelled him and then eventually destroyed him.
These are likely not obstacles Scheffler will ever have to clear. His level head means that more than any other post-2010 challenger to Tiger’s throne, he has the best chance to emulate his deeds.
Rory McIlroy was the first to be ordained, and in completing the career grand slam at the Masters this year, proved those comparisons were not entirely misplaced.
Rory McIlroy is a captivating and brilliant golfer, but is more emotionally volatile than Scottie Scheffler. (Getty Images: Michael Reaves)
But McIlroy is emotional and streaky, stuck between caring so incredibly much that he becomes an all-conquering cyborg like Tiger, and caring just enough to maintain calm and perspective like Scheffler.
Jordan Spieth had a run at it in his early 20s and was endlessly entertaining in doing so, but burned out when the exhilarating shots stopped coming off and self-doubt crept in. Spieth never knew how to play boring, let alone master it like Scheffler.
Brooks Koepka is a more interesting comparison, as his is the strongest post-Tiger major resume. His schtick was nonchalance, but while replacing Scheffler’s existentialism with frat house egotism — “why would I even care about this, bro? This is just so easy for me”.
But golf never stays easy for long, and Koepka was rarely able to inspire himself outside of the brightest lights.
For now and for the foreseeable future, there is just Scottie Scheffler.
Going from the depths of his press conference rabbit hole on Tuesday to the runaway Champion Golfer of the Year on Sunday, again proved his mental fortitude is just as elite as his ball striking.
Of course, what Scheffler said in that press conference was painfully true. Once he has set the Claret Jug down somewhere safe, he and his family will begin to plan for dinner, try like hell to get Bennett to sleep in a reasonable time frame, and then begin thinking about the next tournament.
On and on it goes. He still may not be any closer to discovering what the point of it all really is.
But one would hope that the glow from this victory lasts a little longer. It’s not every day that you touch the clouds upon which greatness rests, let alone pull yourself up and take a seat.
