Scottie Scheffler might as well have been sitting behind glass at a zoo, not at a podium inside Royal Birkdale’s media center. The world’s top-ranked player, a year removed from his famous “What is the point?” soliloquy at Portrush, was expected by the gathered press to perform similar tricks.
One by one, they tapped the proverbial glass:
“Do you have any other crisis of the soul you want to relate to us?”
“Do you feel at peace?”
“Your legacy doesn’t matter at all?”
Scheffler initially tried not to bite: “I don’t want to start rambling again,” he said, “because that’s what I did last year and we got a little bit off the rails.”
But a few questions later, when asked how much specific benchmarks – first to do this, one of four to do that, etc. – motivate him, Scheffler’s philosophical nature returned.
“To be completely honest, not really,” Scheffler responded. “I don’t really play, like, for a place in history. I’m not playing for anything like that because – this is going to sound a little morbid – at the end of the day, I’m going to live my life, and it’s going to end. When it ends, I’m going somewhere else, and I’m not going to be here anymore.
“Legacy and all that stuff was never really something that motivated me. For me, it was always competition. I loved playing golf. I loved waking up with butterflies because I’m going out to play a tournament and I get a chance to compete today. I love those feelings, and when I retire, I’m going to miss them.”
Scheffler last year: What’s the point?
Scheffler this year: We’re all going to die.
“Is that going to be a quote?” Scheffler asked the reporters, laughing, before diving deeper.
“There’s things I would like to accomplish in the game, but at the end of the day, I have never once thought about how I’m going to be remembered,” Scheffler continued. “To me, it truly doesn’t matter from a sense of like accomplishment. Like when I die, Hey, Scottie won four majors and 20 tournaments, and he won this much money; That has zero effect on me. … I’d much rather be remembered for doing things the right way than the guy that won all the tournaments.”
When he was younger, Scheffler admittedly took himself too seriously. He’s gotten much better, he believes, at taking his hat off and shaking hands in defeat. He also still wants to win, badly, though the nervous indigestion that he’d get before big rounds – Scheffler revealed he was burping up chunks of food for a week prior to the 2017 U.S. Open, where he’d ultimately capture low-amateur honors – the stress isn’t nearly as bad these days.
But what about handling missed cuts? Ah, that’s the main storyline – non-morbidity division, of course – surrounding Scheffler entering this 154th Open Championship.
Scheffler’s streak of 78* straight made cuts (*no-cut events are included) ended last Friday at the Genesis Scottish Open, where Scheffler didn’t play the weekend in a tournament he started for the first time since the 2022 FedEx St. Jude Championship. The early exit was frustrating, Scheffler said Tuesday, but it wasn’t deflating.
“I don’t think it hurts as much as coming close to winning and finishing second,” said Scheffler, who, for what it’s worth, has four runner-up finishes since his last win, which came back in January.
Scheffler confessed he was “a bit lost” on his rare weekend off. He wished one of his colleagues had pressed send on a text later shown to Scheffler, explaining what one can still do after MC’ing. Scheffler was able to get in a workout at Renaissance Club on Saturday morning before departing for Southport. He played 18 holes on Sunday, surprisingly in front of quite a few fans and cameras, then nine each on Monday and Tuesday, while also handling a few obligations required of the defending champ, including giving back to the Claret Jug.
“It wasn’t the worst thing in the world…,” Scheffler said. “I got down here a bit earlier, just getting used to the course and getting some extra rest in a week where there’s some more demands on your time isn’t the worst thing.”
Those demands can be draining.
The spotlight can be burdening.
This game can be unfulfilling, trophies and records meaningless in the grand scheme of life.
But the hunt? For Scheffler, it’s always been more satisfying than the kill.
