With Scottie Scheffler, it isn't nihilism, it's confidence

When you're trying to build a successful life - not just a successful career - there are numerous paths

(Image from this Tom Fornelli tweet.)

The jokes about Scottie Scheffler being emo are legitimately funny. My strategy for Royal Portrush? Does it matter when we’re all going to die anyway?

During the pre-tournament media build up for The Open, Scheffler was pensive, feeling his way through an answer carefully, though it seemed as if he wasn’t exactly sure what was going to come out of his mouth either.

He tried to explain:

“To get to live out your dreams is very special, but at the end of the day, I’m not out here to inspire the next generation of golfers. 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.”

He reasoned that sometimes he’s not sure why he wants to win so bad, because when he does, it’s awesome for about two minutes, and then it’s like “So what are we doing for dinner?” More golf titles for Scheffler is like more money for Bezos at this point.

One more quote from his philosophic answer, which you can watch in full here.

“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 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.”

Scheffler’s comments weren’t ungrateful or as some have put it “nihilistic,” but were just zoomed out, thoughtful concepts that comes with the gift of perspective, which can be hard to articulate.

Translations may vary, but I didn’t hear “this doesn’t matter,” I just heard a confident man. And when I say “confidence” I’m not talking golf confidence, I see someone aware they’ve got the tools to get where they want to be, one way or another.

Scheffler has himself in the pressbox here, above the action, and is saying “Look - I’m trying to build a good life.” Isn’t that what we should all want, at least in theory? And yet the sports world is rife with elite athletes whose lives away from the game are a tire fire, because often they’ve barely taken the time to consider it. Since a young age they’ve pounded away at being the best they could possibly be at their respective sport, and that came at the cost of a healthy worldview.

With Scheffler, it seems someone impressed upon him the value of balance.

When I say I hear confidence, it’s because Scheffler seems to know he doesn’t need golf to realize the fuller picture he’s after. He can take stock of what he is: People like him. He’s smart, he’s obviously physically talented, and he can be thoughtful and competitive, a rare mix. What industry, exactly, would those attributes preclude you from having success? He could’ve done well in a variety of fields.

When he says “golf isn’t fulfilling,” it’s the point that golf isn’t fulfilling alone, it’s just a piece of the puzzle. The sport itself is a means towards an end. With the amount of money he’s made, you could make a reasonable argument that any future golf might be a detriment to his overall fulfillment. Yes, having a career - and a successful one - can be a huge part of many people’s self-worth, and I’ll include myself in that. It matters to me that I do well, as it obviously does for Scottie, a point he makes clear in the extended version of those answers.

But if his time were devoted to family - maybe having a couple more kids, being around the neighbourhood and going to their practices and not travelling around the globe and grinding - maybe he could find more fulfillment there, and make up for some of what golf now gives him. Spotrac has his career earnings at $163 million dollars. I’m not sure how many more levels of fulfillment there are for him to find on the golf course unless you think his life is materially different with six majors instead of four, or $200 million instead of $163. (You may if you care about legacy golf rankings, but it doesn’t seem like Scheffler himself does.)

• Tangent #1: I actually think in the next five-to-ten years we’re going to see our first wildly successful athlete retire in their late prime because they’ve just made so much money and just don’t love it enough to keep up with the day to day. The money is astronomical, and at some point, the shit your coach/manager gives you isn’t worth taking when you’ve got hundreds of millions and don’t really feel like getting booed in some random city.

Scheffler also seems aware, to a healthy degree, that his job isn’t that of an ER doctor or teacher where additional fulfillment comes from doing an obvious good for others. He’s hitting a ball in a hole, which doesn’t exactly generate electricity for the poor, you just take it out and try to get it in the next one. The world doesn’t need ball-in-hole hitters, which certainly seems to fuel some of his “what’s the point?” message.

• Tangent #2: I think the whole of Scheffler’s perspective also probably helps him on the course. When you’ve got a good family and a bajillion dollars, is the threat of hitting your approach in the bunker really that big of a risk? Like, so what if this next shot doesn’t work out? You’re pretty freed up to go for it when you get there.

But back to the overall point, and that’s that Scheffler seems confident that he doesn’t need golf, and that he could have found his way to a happy life via any number of paths. Business, fighting fires, whatever else he had chosen to give his time to, he could’ve earned well, married well, and built a version of himself that found happiness. He likes competing at golf, but it doesn’t have to be this way for him to get there.

That’s a great lesson for the rest of us, isn’t it?

Maybe it doesn’t always go the way we thought it would, or the way we drew it up, but it doesn’t have to. If you’re a decent person with a good work ethic, and you can see the big picture, there’s plenty of paths to your own personal version of fulfillment.

Scheffler is a reminder to sometimes zoom out and take stock, and sometimes cut our losses or change courses. It’s not nihilism to think you might be able to feel complete without the thing you find yourself giving your time to today. Even if at that thing, you happen to be the very best in the world.