Sarah Stirk
This year’s Players Championship had an odd feel about it with so many of the big names failing to deliver, but that shouldn’t take anything away from Scottie Scheffler, who made winning look like a Sunday afternoon stroll.
There was a lot of chatter on social media in the aftermath about the American being brilliant but boring, and this got me thinking about what we really want from the best players in the world. We marvel at some of their exploits on the course, but do we almost expect too much of them?
Scheffler is one of the few big-name players I haven’t yet interviewed, but what’s clear from hearing him talk is how grounded he is as an individual. He married his childhood sweetheart, still drives the same car he had in college and plays board games to unwind, which is all very wholesome but doesn’t pique much interest in the gossip columns.
He’s not the first big-time player to be accused of lacking charisma and I don’t think fans care too much about that as long as they produce exciting moments on the course. Here’s where Scheffler comes in for a bit of stick, though, and not all of it is justified in my opinion. He perhaps suffers from the fact there’s no one strength to his game, but there are no weaknesses either. At The Players his course management was faultless, he avoided all the danger spots and found the right part of the greens. His strategy was incredible, but it was so incredible it was dull. The rest of the field just couldn’t keep up, but you can’t blame him for that.
He’s now won six PGA Tour titles in little over a year and has become only the third player, after Jack and Tiger, to hold The Players and Masters titles simultaneously. At the time of writing he’s back to World No.1 and I imagine he’ll be there or thereabouts at Augusta again this year – you may know by now depending on when you read this. All in all, I’m sure he doesn’t care if people don’t find him an interesting character, but is it bad for the game if the very best don’t capture the imagination of the fans?
I think there’s an intriguing comparison here between Scheffler and Jordan Spieth. For me, Spieth is one of the most watchable guys on tour at the moment. The back and forth with his caddie, Michael Greller, and his ability to hit some pretty wayward shots but often find a way out of danger with great imagination is compelling viewing. Scheffler, on the other hand, seems to remain calm whatever the situation and deliver fuss-free birdies, which will never be as good to watch. But I remember when Spieth first broke on to the scene, people were levelling similar criticisms at him. Up until his meltdown on the 12th at Augusta in 2016, he seemed like a winning machine who never missed a putt. It was an amazing start to his career, but if he’d continued in that vein, I’m sure people would have wanted to see more from him. It’s almost as if he had to lose form to become a more interesting golfer. People do love a winner, but it’s often in adversity that we can relate to these superstars more easily.
Scheffler’s reputation for dull golf has also suffered from the manner of his high-profile victories. Both at Augusta last year and Sawgrass in March, his wins have come at a canter. Perhaps we’ll see a different player if he needs to birdie the last to make a play-off, or if he’s forced to take on shots out of his comfort zone. Despite his appearance, he’s still only 26 and I don’t think we’ve seen enough of him yet to completely write off his game as dull.
He’ll never have the fiery temperament of a Jon Rahm or a Tyrrell Hatton, and that is a major reason why he’s at the top of leaderboards so often. Hatton is great to watch, but when his head goes it costs him shots and that can be the difference between winning and losing. You can’t tell from Scheffler’s demeanour if he’s hit 65 or 78, which may not be great viewing but is a hell of a gift on the golf course. While I doubt this will change in the coming years, I do think his all-round brilliance is bound to deliver more excitement as his career unfolds. It may just take a nail-biting finish or even a Spieth-style meltdown to make him feel a bit more relatable.
“Is it bad for the game if the very best don’t capture the imagination of the fans?”