I never expected Scottie Scheffler to give best press conference ever

Times

17-07-2025

'There are a lot of people that make it to what they thought was going to fulfil them in life, [but] you get to No1 in the world and they're like, 'What's the point?' I really do believe that, because what is the point? Why do I want to win this tournament so bad? It's something that I wrestle with on a daily basis.'
This was one quote from what will perhaps go down as the most frank, raw and profound press conference, well, ever. It involved Scottie Scheffler and if you are surprised as to the identity of the man who spoke the above words, join the club. Press conferences are typically forums that incubate banalities (I know: I've been to a few) but this was a brilliant golfer and reflective man pondering some of the deeper questions confronting someone who has spent most of his life — this brief illumination of existence that is all any of us gets — hitting a silly little ball into a plastic cup.
'It's like showing up at the Masters every year — why do I want to win this golf tournament so badly? Why do I want to win the Open Championship so badly? I don't know, because if I win it's going to be awesome for two minutes. I'm not out here to inspire someone to be the best player in the world, because what's the point? This is not a fulfilling life. It's fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment but it's not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart.'
Forgive the length of the quotes I'm sharing but this is the only way to get a sense of the scale of his foray into existential candour. Scheffler went on: 'I literally worked my entire life to become good at golf and have an opportunity to win that tournament,' he said. 'Then it's like, 'OK, what are we going to get for dinner?' Life goes on. It only lasts a few minutes, that kind of euphoric feeling.' It wasn't so much the words that struck home as his facial expression, conveying the aching sense of anticlimax.
I perhaps should say that Scheffler is not alone in having opened up in this way. I remember talking to Victoria Pendleton (albeit in a one-on-one interview, rather than a press conference) and she spoke hauntingly about the 'worst thing' to have happened to her.
She had worked for years, nurturing the dream of climbing to the top of the Olympic podium — and then won gold. 'You have all this build-up for one day, and when it's over, it's, 'Oh, is that it?' ' she said. 'People think it's hard when you lose. But it's almost easier to come second because you have something to aim for when you finish. When you win, you suddenly feel lost.'
Over the years, I've heard similar sentiments from Jonny Wilkinson, Billie Jean King, Ronnie O'Sullivan and Martina Navratilova. James Toseland, the motorsports legend, wept in the privacy of his hotel room after winning the Superbike world title. Steve Peters, the psychiatrist, has compared it to a sense of bereavement. 'A number of people I've been in touch with following the Olympics, people who'd succeeded, said the same. They felt quite depressed, almost like a sense of loss.'
You may be thinking: 'Get over yourselves, you're earning loads of money for doing something you enjoy.' And it's a fair point. But isn't there a kernel of wisdom contained in this testimony too? The dream we are often sold is that if we make a million, or buy our first Porsche, (or capture the Green Jacket), we will experience an epiphany, perhaps even lasting bliss. But what many people find at the end of the yellow brick road is a mirage, an apparition, a false promise. One thinks of Robert Louis Stevenson's words: 'To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.'
If this sounds gloomy, I'm glad to say that this is where Scheffler shifted gears and talked about where true meaning is to be found. You see, he's a dad, a husband, a son; a man immersed in that intricate network of mutual support and love we call family.
These are the people for whom one's triumphs are a blessing, who strangely take more joy from our successes, and us from theirs, than either of us are capable of taking for ourselves. And this is why whether we're playing golf or stacking shelves at Asda, as my dear mum used to do, those of us with the gift of a loving family have something more precious than diamonds or a million Green Jackets.
As Scheffler put it (and my heart leapt at his words): 'I'm blessed to be able to come out here and play golf. But if my golf ever started affecting my home life or if it ever affected the relationship I have with my wife or with my son, you know, that's going to be the last day that I play out here for a living. I would much rather be a great father than I would be a great golfer.' Amen.
Royal PortrushThursday-SundayTV Sky Sports, coverage starts 6.30am