In an era of narrowing margins, Scottie Scheffler’s relentless consistency sets him apart, if his brilliance is defined less by flash than by an extraordinary ability to outlast every rival.
Most convincingly, now-long-time world number-one Scottie Scheffler has attained a consistently high level of performance unheard of since the peak years of Tiger Woods and, before that, Jack Nicklaus.
Pretty much every time he tees-up, Scheffler either wins, or is within a shot (as was the case at this year’s Masters) or two of victory. Anything else comes as a bit of a shock.
Maybe the most interesting aspect of the 29-year-old American’s supremacy is that he doesn’t do anything most of his fellow tour pros cannot also achieve. He doesn’t have a shot no one else can hit. No one else on tour is looking at Scheffler thinking they are incapable of reproducing just about any aspect of the Texan’s game.
However, here’s the thing. What Scheffler does have is an ability to keep doing what he does so well in just about every kind of situation. Seemingly no matter what or how he is feeling, the (already) four-time major champion is able to keep hitting really good shots. Long after those around him have succumbed to the pressure that tends to increase exponentially late on Sunday afternoons, Scheffler is firing at pins. When most are missing greens or hitting to 40 feet, he is putting for birdie inside 10 feet. Hole after hole after hole.
The emergence of a world number-one who plays in such a fashion has long been inevitable, of course. Modern golf equipment is wonderful in so many ways, but what it has done is create a sharp end of the sport, where distinguishing oneself is way more difficult.
Take back-to-back Masters champion Rory McIlroy, who is almost universally recognised as the best driver in the professional game. Yes, the Northern Irishman benefits from his supremacy in that area, but not nearly as much as he would do if the longest club in the bag was (as it used to be) a lot less forgiving. The arrival of the frying pan-like metal head means the average driver on tour is a lot closer to the top driver than he used to be.
Given that squeezing of the difference between the best and the rest, Scheffler’s formula for success is just about the only one available. Which, it goes without saying, remains admirable. Becoming (clearly) the best player on the planet is far from a simple matter, given that there are so many really good (albeit equipment-enhanced) players these days. Standing out is difficult.
Still, at least for this observer, the “champion golfer” of 2025 doesn’t actually distinguish himself in the sense that, if asked to identify my favourite Scheffler shot, I would struggle to come up with one. The positive that is his incredible consistency becomes a negative when one realises his highlight reel is packed with sameness. Impressive sameness, but sameness nonetheless.
Scheffler then, is no Woods, whose near-peerless career was dotted with unforgettable moments and shots. Think of the chip-in on the 16th hole at the Masters; the ball toppling at the last possible moment. Or the ridiculous shot he hit from sand over water en route to winning a Canadian Open. Or the shot in the dark he stiffed on the 72nd hole at Firestone. The list is long.
Nor is Scheffler a Seve Ballesteros. The late, great Spaniard was a shot-making genius; his imagination combining with an other-worldly touch to provide us with so many strokes to savour. My favourite? The chip Seve hit from just right of the 18th green at Royal Lytham to clinch the 1988 Open Championship. Rolling like a putt, the ball kissed the edge of the cup and finished inches away. There are many others - one from behind a wall left of the 18th fairway at Crans in Switzerland was all but superhuman – and all are instantly memorable.
Though, don’t get me wrong. This column remains a big fan of what Scheffler does and what he has already achieved. However, the way he plays is a product of a modern game which encourages sameness rather than distinctiveness. He does what everyone else does; he just does it longer than everyone else.



