What the man’s PGA Championship celebration reveals about him
CHARLOTTE, N.C. At 27 pounds, 27 inches between the handles, and 28 inches between the top and bottom, the PGA silver cup is a behemoth. It’s the biggest prize in professional golf, and as one previous champion quipped, your biceps have to be flexed to hold it aloft in photographs following your PGA Championship triumph, which gives you a good appearance.
However, it will be difficult for you to locate this massive reward when Scottie Scheffler brings it back to his Devonshire area house in Dallas.
It will be difficult to ascertain the scale of the population. Not one of Scheffler’s countless trophies has ever been seen by friends who have been inside. According to Frank Voigt, one of his closest friends at Royal Oaks Country Club, he has visited several times and never seen any, with the exception of the time Scheffler had his Masters trophy hanging out inside the old white 2012 GMC Yukon XL he sold last year. The souvenirs are almost hidden in Scheffler’s house office, which he refers to as “the golf room.”
“All my junk literally ends up there,” he stated.
The majority of the trophies are displayed on a shelf that he and his wife Meredith had to renovate last year.
“I would like to say that it is well presented, but it is not,” Scheffler said with a smile.
But Meredith wouldn’t allow that to happen. “It’s nice!” she and his father Scott interjected enthusiastically, leaning forward. Then, like a wise husband, he put his tail between his legs and said into the microphone, “Okay, it’s nice.”
At these times, you may picture Scheffler as the modest Texan family man who doesn’t let the game define who he is, in addition to being the best golfer in the world. That endures until you see Scheffler, the killer, the savage, the guy who yells “(Expletive) yeah, baby” while flipping an entire major championship in 40 minutes. He has an irresistible urge to win. It’s all over when he completes it. Let’s move on.
The paradox of Scottie Scheffler has to be understood somewhere between these two truths, but the meeting point of these worlds wasn’t clear until his outstanding Sunday victory at the PGA Champion. That fire does have a benefit, in fact.
Bennett is his name.
He maintained his composure at first. Normal. He made the last winning putt, stooped down to pick it up, and embraced Ted Scott, his caddie. He extended his hand to Alex Noren, his partner in the game. In the middle of the green, he paused for a few beats and recognized the audience.
After that, Scheffler let go.
Everything was revealed. With the entire weight of his body, he slammed his right foot on the ground and tossed his Nike cap there. Before giving Scott a chest bump, he yelled “Yes!” and clapped his hands together while addressing the crowd. He wanted this, a five-shot destruction for his third major title and first outside The Masters.
He then ran over the creek to look for his family. He began by embracing Meredith for a few minutes. He then took Bennett, his son who had been born a little over a year earlier. Even if he had won competitions with Bennett, this was his first significant title since becoming a dad.
Scheffler approached his parents while holding Bennett in his arms. Scott Scheffler gave up his carpentry career to raise the four children while their mother, Diane, earned money as a COO at a law business. With three generations of Scheffler boys embracing one another, Scott exclaimed, “I’m so proud of you,” though he said he couldn’t put it into words.
Following that, Bennett accompanied Scheffler on his triumph tour. Up the hill to the 10th tee, down by the practice green, and over to the scoring area. He noticed a camera and instructed Bennett to pose for television. Eventually, he reached the scoring area and attempted to pass the ball to Meredith, but Bennett refused and insisted on returning to his father.
Knowing to give Bennett his hat and the scorecard holder from his back pocket to play with, Scheffler laid him down and had to go sign his card. Achieved Dad levels.
Scheffler’s defining trait, which is evident on the biggest stages of golf as well as on the terraces of country clubs, is his unwavering competitiveness. The world is him. The top golfer, who is now an adult man, is debating with middle-aged finance and insurance salesmen about his ability to defeat two of them in a pickleball match on his own. The guy who sobbed in his wife’s arms following a devastating loss in the Ryder Cup.
The individual who became so enraged during a college competition that he swung at a Mesquite plant, causing a thorn to become lodged so far into his thumb that it required surgery to remove it. On the Sunday morning of the 2024 Masters, he became so overcome that he said to his pals, “I wish I didn’t want to win as badly as I do.”
But as soon as he wins these battles, it’s all over. The superstar often becomes guarded when he is repeatedly questioned about his accomplishments or professional aspirations.
“I don’t concentrate on that kind of stuff, I love trying to compete and win golf tournaments, that’s what I’m focused on. Following this week, I’m heading home to prepare for next week’s competition, and the show goes on.
How can you be so desperate for something yet have no idea what to do with it, or be so wired that you cry the day before your first Masters because you don’t believe you’re ready, or tell your friends that you wish you weren’t so eager for it, but then, once you have it, confess that you have no interest in thinking about the tournament or the green jacket and just want to go back to your family?
“Playing professional golf feels like a career that never ends,” Scheffler remarked that Sunday night in Augusta.
“I wish I could absorb this a little bit more. Perhaps when I get home later tonight. However, in the end, I believe that’s what the human heart does. In my opinion, you have to combat those impulses and concentrate on the positive.
This highly competitive golf genius, who so desperately wants it but is most proud of leaving it at the office the moment he gets to the parking lot, may be perplexing. At the Players Championship, we saw him rant to himself and smash clubs before instantly turning around and acting cute and making noises in front of Bennett as he left the locker room. Scheffer is both of those individuals. The link is Bennett.
Scottie Scheffler didn’t play his best round of golf on Sunday. Never. His driver kept missing far to the left, even though his advantage was as large as five shots after three holes. His irons kept hitting bunkers. He was below average in the field in both off-the-tee and approach shots, a complete outlier for Scheffler on a major Sunday. Fellow two-time major winner Jon Rahm caught him at 9-under-par on the back nine as things went far enough south.
According to both Scheffler and his coach Randy Smith, the swings weren’t even horrible. Scheffler was forced to ask Scott why the ball continued to go left, prompting Scott to deliver the best piece of golf advice ever in a sarcastic tone:
“Well, perhaps you’re pointing in that direction. Try hitting a little more to the right.
Ted Scott just remarked, “There he is,” after he hit a perfect drive on the tenth tee. Just as Rahm faltered by missing two birdie putts that were within his reach and finishing with a bogey and two doubles, Scheffler went birdie-birdie on 14–15, parred the next three holes, and birdied 10. By the time Scheffler turned 18, he was ahead of Rahm by eight and the rest of the group by six.
“He has that capacity to say, ‘You’re not coming after me, bud,’” Scott stated.
According to Texas Monthly, Brad Payne, Scheffler’s chaplain and pal, said that he first got to know Scheffler as a man seeking a restricted kind of golf greatness.
Payne described it as “a very lonely place,” adding that “you can be around a million people and feel alone.”
Before his tragic suicide last year, Payne collaborated with professional golfer Grayson Murray for extended periods. Payne remembered Murray saying that he was motivated by Scheffler’s capacity to give up golf and discover comfort and security in his family. He desired it. Scheffler discussed Murray and the value of sharing your burdens with others during the tour’s memorial service for Murray at a competition.
When Scheffler was still an unproven 25-year-old talent, Scott assumed control of his bag. He watched him transform from an exciting talent into a champion, a world. A dad first, then number one.
On the largest platforms in golf, he can now hear Scheffler speak about his son as they stroll the fairways. You won’t believe what Bennett did last night. When Bennett did this, it was hilarious. Scott, who is also a father, adores it.
“He’s just a good man,” he stated. “And I believe that in the end, when we look back at this tournament from a year ago, what happened to him, and how that played out with his arrest and the whole deal, you can really see the character of Scottie Scheffler shine through brighter than anything he could do on a golf course. Because that’s who he is, does having a child simply indicate that he is somewhere else?
Therefore, what did Scheffler really feel when he tossed his hat on the ground? Why did a player who is often known for holding back that release allow it to happen?
He responded, “Just a lot of happiness. I think, you know, just maybe thankful as well.” It was a lengthy week. In my career, I felt that this was as difficult as I fought for a tournament. This week was a bit difficult.
As he stated a year earlier, golf is intentionally an unfulfilling profession. The best player in the world could win one out of ten games. A 10th-place finish makes for a good week. In spite of his best efforts to maintain perspective, he gets furious when he fails. He acknowledges that. Scheffler’s discovery is the ability to compartmentalize at the appropriate times.
However, Scheffler demonstrated his desire for it to the globe on Sunday night. Because he is so conscious of how much work it requires.
“It’s a never-ending chase,” he remarked, “and it’s a lot of fun.”
He performed his obligations, delivered his speeches, and answered all the questions after it was over. The emotions had subsided by 8:10 p.m. on Sunday, and it was only a guy performing his duties. However, following the final query, he jumped up, walked over to Meredith, and held Bennett by both arms. He picked him up and started making the sort of ridiculous, idiotic expressions you make when you’re with your child.
Who the hell cares where the Wanamaker goes?
