When it Comes to Winning, Scottie Scheffler Does Indeed Know

The crowds at Quail Hollow Club were subdued for the 107th PGA Championship — uncommonly subdued in a world where the sound of a crisp 6-iron into a par-4 on a lazy Thursday morning often gets drowned out by a scream of, “Light the candle!”

Perhaps the people of Charlotte are simply accustomed to having an annual PGA Tour stop on this property. Maybe it was the free food and water that soaked up the alcohol and kept any inhibitions restrained.

The galleries were as muted as we’ve heard in recent memory, though every once in a while during Scottie Scheffler’s march toward a third major title, a hushed yelp of “Scottie doesn’t know!” would rise above the reserve, a reference to an esoteric song from a mostly-forgotten, two-decade-old comedy movie.

Just as the usual “Get in the hole!” boasts are misguided, the intention of this innuendo similarly missed the mark.

If there was one prevailing theme over the weekend in Charlotte, it’s that Scottie does indeed know. He knows how to keep his composure when things aren’t going his way, and he knows how to step on the gas pedal when they are.

There were two tectonic shifts on the leaderboard which exemplified this idea.

The first occurred on Saturday, when Scheffler trailed by two strokes on the course’s back-nine, only to flip the script and take a three-shot lead in less than an hour-and-a-half.

The second came Sunday, again on the back-nine and again in less than 90 minutes, when he went from being tied for the lead with Jon Rahm to holding a commanding five-stroke advantage.

A five-shot swing at the top of any leaderboard is wizardry, a five-shot swing at the top of a major is downright filthy and a five-shot swing at a major followed by another the next day is the stuff of legend.

As a culture, we appreciate witnessing greatness in the moment — and that’s exactly what this was, though it differed greatly from that other dominant figure in the game over the past quarter-century.

No, we’re not going to advocate comparisons between Scheffler and Tiger Woods, which wouldn’t be fair to either one of them. It is, however, fair to suggest a dichotomy in their dominance.

When Tiger was doing it, you knew it was happening. When Scottie does it, he lulls everyone to sleep — including his fellow contenders — until the realization that he’s locked up the title.

To use an analogy from another sport: Scheffler isn’t the fastest out of the starting blocks, but once he’s on the straightaway, nobody can keep up.

And one more: Every time it looks like he’s about to be tackled, he applies an elegant yet powerful stiff-arm and keeps on moving.

His longtime coach, Randy Smith, called the final round Scheffler’s best golf ever, due to his ability to make mid-round adjustments. His caddie, Ted Scott, claimed that his greatest weapon is his competitive desire, caring only about the pursuit of winning and not the money or points or other rewards.

In the wake of Scheffler’s third major championship, sleuths are scurrying to uncover his secret to success, but the real secret might be that there is no secret.

If we must propose some rationale, though, then maybe it’s his ability to remain unburdened.

This is a word which was thrown about in regard to Rory McIlroy prior to the tournament, the presumption being that winning the career grand slam last month had lifted a massive weight from his shoulders.

Yet there was McIlroy, eschewing any media interviews for four straight days, finishing in a share of 47th place and clearly burdened by something.

There was Jon Rahm, who’d tied for the lead only to wobble on the final three holes, offering a brutally honest post-round assessment that golf is really difficult.

There was Bryson DeChambeau, who shared runner-up honors, immediately afterward suggesting that he needs to find a ball which flies straighter.

And there was Scheffler, plodding along to another convincing win, rarely displaying any emotion until a final-green hat slam and ensuing embrace with his wife and young son. This comes on the heels of a nine-win campaign which was briefly interrupted for his arrest, a burden which hardly showed inside the ropes. 

In fact, it was at this tournament where Scheffler famously spent a small portion of the week locked up. One year later at the same event, he was completely locked in as he locked down yet another major championship victory.