What’s the point? Scheffler makes a decent one in Open’s game of thrones

The world No.1 gave the quotes of the year before the British Open. Then shot a 68 to put himself in contention to do the thing at the heart of his existential crisis. Win.

Scottie Scheffler articulated the most sincere, honest, humble, raw, insightful, revealing, heartfelt, eye-opening, thought-provoking, perspective-laden, self-deprecating, deep-and-meaningful and intensely human quotes of the year and then shuffled off to the first tee at the British Open for the next 18 holes of his existential crisis.

I misread and underestimated Scheffler until this week. Suspect I wasn’t alone. I watched the unfailingly sensible American give a whimsical, half-baked grin and shrug his shoulders upon winning the US Masters and thought, you boring bugger. Fire up, mate!

I trudged away from Augusta National bemoaning the World No.1 as another robotic athlete who barely has a pulse or skerrick of human emotion.

Now we know Scheffler is a profoundly sensitive soul who’s spent a lifetime scrapping and clawing to reach the top of the sky-high mountain, only to rub his eyes, look around, scratch his head and ask, so what?

Scottie Scheffler during the first round of the Open Championship Picture: AP

In case you missed the remarkable remarks viewed about a billion times around the globe, and published in every newspaper, and broadcast on every radio and small screen, here’s a snapshot of what Scheffler said on Open eve at Royal Portrush, on the rugged north coast of Northern Ireland, where many a man, musician, flamin’ galah, philosopher and grizzled poet has gazed at the sea and stars and felt the wind through his hair and wondered what, if anything, really matters.

“This is not a fulfilling life,” he said. “This is not the place to look for your satisfaction. It’s fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart. There’s a lot of people that make it to what they thought was going to fulfil them in life, and you get there, you get to No.1 in the world, and they’re like, ‘What’s the point?’ I really do believe that. What is the point? Why do I want to win this tournament so bad? That’s something that I wrestle with on a daily basis. 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.”

Having bared the innermost torments and agitations of his soul, of wanting desperately to prove himself no mug by lifting the claret jug, while knowing the euphoria of victory will be hollow and fleeting, all of “two minutes,” you half expected Scheffler to arrive on the first tee swilling a pint of Guinness, with a bottle of whiskey in his bag, dishevelled and shoeless, perhaps shirtless, weeping while singing a Clancy Brothers ballad: “Whack fol the diddle! I’ll sing you a song of peace and love!”

Instead, as ever, the Olympic and three-time major champion soberly plonked balls up the high-diddle-diddle to post a commendable and predictable opening round of three-under-par 68.

Shane Lowry, Collin Morikawa and Scottie Schefflerwalk on the seventh hole Picture: Getty Images)

So, what? Al Czervic said in Caddyshack, “So, let’s dance!”

Scheffler was taking a more pragmatic view after hitting enough clean strokes, primarily laser-like putts following errant driving, to hit the sack just one shot behind five overnight leaders.

“Different greens, different surface,” Scheffler said of links golf in a less meaning-of-life monologue than he delivered the previous day.

“These greens, it’s just different. I don’t know how you want me to elaborate on that. Definitely a bit smoother, but putting is one of those deals where, especially when there’s a little bit of activity on the greens, you can hit a lot of good putts that don’t go in. I’m trying to do my best to be perfect every week but some weeks the putts just aren’t going in. I did a good job.”

In the hunt. What’s the point? Exasperation point? Boiling point? What’s the meaning of life, the universe and everything?

The answer is 42, according to the Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, a number countless players posted for the back nine on Thursday (local time) in sideways drizzle and strong, bracing, erratic winds.

Scheffler says he goes to golf every day thanking his better half, Meredith, for looking after their one-year-old son, Bennett. Meredith thanks him for providing for their family, by keeping a decent roof over their heads thanks to $140m in prizemoney, and triple the amount in endorsements, ensuring shoes on Bennett’s feet and little toy cars that go beep, beep, beep. He says that’s the fulfilling part and point of his life and if golf ever complicates his family life, he will throw his clubs in the garage and never play a tournament again.

“I think I’ve made that pretty clear over the course of my career,” he said. “At times I feel like maybe I should be a little less honest. Maybe I shouldn’t have said the stuff I said because now I’m going to get asked about it more. But really it’s just a matter of perspective, and I’ve had some players come up to me and say that they feel and think the same things.”

I reckon individual athletes feel less satisfied than those in teams. Andy Murray won his first tennis major and stared blankly at the rising sun from his hotel window the next morning. Australian cricket teams after triumphs have a whale of a time because they’re doing it with their mates. Scheffler doesn’t really have shared experiences in his triumphs. He’s done it on his own and has to celebrate so. Family and friends have been onlookers. Teams bounce off each other. They’ve had a win together. Their shared experience is the point.

Royal Portrush is a tough track. The surrounding landscape is so dramatic it features in the Game of Thrones. In a top-notch town with top-notch people, this is real golf, with balls disappearing into savage rough, and bunkers so deep you might only escape with a harness, glacier rope and emergency whistle – a reminder that shooting 30-under to win American tourn­aments wasn’t the idea when golf started in 15th century Scotland.

Australia’s big three of Cam Smith (+1), Adam Scott (+1) and Jason Day (+2) were relatively pleased with their opening chapters because getting close to par here is satisfying enough. Breaking it is an accomplishment. That’s the point of the exercise.