Golf swings come in an unlimited variety. So do opinions.
The former is why I enjoy watching the World Long Drive Championship, where I once saw a guy using a Happy Gilmore-style walk-up for each drive advance through several rounds.
The latter is proof that we’re all different.
Recently, I was shocked when two guys in my weekly golf league went off on Scottie Scheffler during our post-round chatter at the outdoor bar. Scottie Scheffler? Mr. Nice Guy? The man whose idea of fine dining is Chipotle? (But don’t ask which one he frequents in Greater Dallas. He wants to be alone with his burrito.) A gentleman who puts God and family ahead of golf?
What’s not to like about Scottie, I asked. One of my league pals said, “Aww, he’s just boring as heck. He states the obvious when he talks, he never says anything interesting.” The other guy, a retiree, added, “He doesn’t look like he’s having fun out there. He looks as enthused as I do when I’m in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles.”
So, did you guys like Tiger Woods, I asked? He ranked second all-time behind Michael Jordan for never saying anything interesting. My friends hemmed and hawed. How about Ben Hogan? “I wasn’t around to watch him!” the retiree huffed. “Geez! How old do you think I am?”
Their remarks reminded me that someone should write a doctoral thesis on the psychology of golf fans and why they decide to root for certain players and against others. Looks? Maybe. The quantity and quality of their smiles? Probably. Post-round sound bites? I’m not so sure.
Then a grilled cheese-and-jalapeno sandwich with coleslaw arrived from the bar and gave me further inspiration. My cohorts’ problem with Scottie, I decided, was SFS — Scottie Fatigue Syndrome. We’re into Year 5 of Scottie’s reign atop the World Golf Rankings. He won 20 tournaments from early 2022 through early 2026. His 66 top-10 finishes include 14 runner-up finishes and 14 thirds. The man is in contention almost every week, it seems, and he comes close if he doesn’t win (like the 2026 major championships — but let’s not mention those. Oops. Too late.) So yeah, Scottie gets a lot of TV and media exposure. He earned it.
It might be understandable that some fans are a little tired of him. Upon further review, a key part of Scottie Fatigue Syndrome is probably TWWS — Tiger Woods Withdrawal Syndrome.
Tiger Woods’ thousand-watt smile, epic long tee shots and wickedly theatrical fist pumps were addicting. Scottie Scheffler isn’t Tiger Woods. Nobody is. But fans and media alike were so hooked on Woods that even seven years after his last Masters title, we want another hit. Tiger wasn’t one in a million, former British Open champ Stewart Cink once said, “he’s once in ever.” The grammar was off a hair, but the point was on target. Tiger was a perfect storm of … everything.
Scheffler can’t live up to that. Also, he hasn’t yet had the dramatic clutch-shot-to-win-a-major moment that Tiger and Phil Mickelson and Rory McIlroy have had at the Masters. That might raise his lovability. In his four major wins by age 30 (six fewer than Tiger at that age), Scheffler has won twice by 3 shots, once by 4 and once by 5. He had the luxury of four-putting to snag his first one, the 2022 Masters. His only rambunctious celebration came when he holed out to win the 2025 PGA Championship at Quail Hollow. There, he slammed his Titleist hat onto the green as a sort of exclamation point.
His work ethic is unrivaled, something any Royal Oaks Country Club member in Dallas could attest. He approaches the game way Ben Hogan might in this modern age. The secrets, Scheffler knows, are still in the dirt.
He can laugh at himself. Scheffler appeared in the movie, “Happy Gilmore 2,” in which he punched a golf opponent and was immediately rushed by police officers. “Not again!” Scheffler’s character moaned. It was a nod to his traffic arrest before the 2024 PGA Championship that led to him in the Louisville jail in an orange jumper.
Scheffler was asked about turning 30 last summer and said he didn’t feel any different. “My hair has already been receding for years,” he quipped.
Maybe Scheffler could smile more. (Sorry, Mr. Hogan.) Or do more than just tip his cap. (Sorry again, Mr. Hogan.)
But he’s Scottie Scheffler, the best in the world. What’s not to like?
Story by Gary Van Sickle
