We work so hard for such little moments. I’m kind of a sicko; I love putting in the work, I love getting to practice, I love getting to live out my dreams. But at the end of the day, sometimes I just don’t understand the point.
One might be tempted to read these words and feel sorry for the one who voiced them. The words feel like an average professional never getting a shot at the top. Like an NFL player who never gets past second string. Like an actor who never gets cast for the lead role. A vice president who always gets overlooked for the top spot in the company. It feels like someone reflecting on a life of grit, with glimpses of glory, but without the ultimate prize.
But those feelings would be dead wrong.
These are the words of the world’s number one golfer, Scottie Scheffler. When he voiced these words, he’d already won the Masters twice and the PGA Championship. He’s had sixteen career wins since joining the PGA. Scottie Scheffler is 29 years old.
Professional golf enthusiasts hear the words “Scottie Shuffle” and immediately envision the way his feet twist and turn during his follow through. In an interview leading up to The Open at Royal Portrush this year, however, he shuffled more than his feet. His words shuffled one way, then another. The interview had its own twists and turns. Did Scottie enjoy winning and being the best or not?
Think about the above quote for a moment. The world’s best golfer had the audacity to say, “Sometimes I just don’t understand the point.” Really? Isn’t the point to do what he’s doing? Winning tournaments and making boatloads of money?
In the same interview, Scheffler shuffled his way through these words:
This is not a fulfilling life … that’s something that I wrestle with on a daily basis. It’s like showing up at the Masters every year; it’s like 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.
Again, crazy. Two days before The British Open (one of golf’s most iconic tournaments), Scheffler admitted that winning it would be awesome for two minutes. And he didn’t stop there. In response to winning The Byron Nelson tournament earlier this year, he said, “You win it, you celebrate, get to hug my family, my sister’s there, it’s such an amazing moment. Then it’s like, OK, what are we going to eat for dinner? Life goes on.” I wonder what they had for dinner that night?
This is breathtaking if you really think about it. A guy who has reached the mountain top is screaming a critical warning for all of us. What we seem to be chasing results in about two minutes of excitement. Being the best in world and having more money than one knows what to do with is great, but what’s the point after that? “If I come in second this week or if I finish dead last, no matter what happens, we’re always on to the next week,” Scheffler continued. “That’s one of the beautiful things about golf, and it’s also one of the frustrating things, because you can have such great accomplishments, but the show goes on. That’s just how it is.” The rat race never stops. If you win, there’s joy for a moment and then it’s on to the next week. It keeps going. “It feels like you work your whole life to celebrate winning a tournament for like a few minutes. It only lasts a few minutes.” Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle.
Scheffler isn’t against playing golf professionally, nor does he not enjoy winning. He confesses to a consuming desire for victory and a vitriolic hatred to lose. But his words must be considered carefully. These things aren’t ultimate. Being the best, winning the most, raking in the cash — none of it will do what we think they will do with our hearts. They all have limits, and even the limits are severely limited.
As a matter of fact, early in the interview, Scottie said as much. In response to playing and winning at golf, he said, “It’s fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart.” Scottie has won against the best of the best, and I wager will continue to do so. When he spoke these words, he was still chasing two Majors he’d yet to capture, and remember, he isn’t yet 30 years old. But I can’t help but read his words as a plea to the world (and me!) to keep it all in perspective. His words feel as shuffled as his feet while swinging his driver. But his words contain rich wisdom and an extreme caution for where we put our hope. Even Golf Digest has a strong opinion, urging Rory McIlroy to heed Scheffler’s sermon.
In my mind, Scottie’s words echo the Preacher in Ecclesiastes who said,
I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure. My heart took delight in all my labor, and this was the reward for all my toil. Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun (Eccl 2:10–11).
This man, like Scottie, had it all. The top had been reached. After observing his heart, however, he too shuffled around realizing that the pleasure lasted about two minutes. Anything pursued wholeheartedly “under the sun” (i.e., without God) will prove to be pointless. These things were never intended to satisfy the deepest places of our hearts.
Scottie (nor the Preacher) would never urge us to run from the pursuit of excellence. He would not encourage us to be halfhearted in our efforts. It’s good and right and helpful to accomplish things and to strive to be an accomplished person. But that’s all these achievements will do. They cannot, nor were ever designed to, quench our ultimate longing. They cannot reach the part of us that aches for love, meaning, grace, mercy, and hope, all while being fully and completely known. These things are already true of us and available without accomplishing a single thing. They’re given to us by Another.
It would serve each of us well to heed the shuffling of Scottie’s words. Work hard. Play hard. Strive to win. Pursue goals and dreams. Chase the best if you so desire. But don’t think for a second these things will settle your soul. Keep them in their place. These things have limits — major limits. Anything under the sun will be fun for about two minutes. Then it’ll be time to move on to the next thing. Thanks, Scottie, for paying attention to your heart and being honest about success. I’ll keep this in mind as I shuffle around what brings ultimate joy and life.
By the way — Scottie shuffled his way up the leader board and won The Open Championship five days after this interview. In true Scheffler fashion, after hoisting the coveted Claret Jug, he seemed most captured by the presence of his wife and child. With them is where he wanted to be. Perhaps that is a glimpse of what truly impacts the deepest places of our hearts. In rich relationship with the people we love the most. I wonder what they ate for dinner Sunday night?








Beautiful article … and “an extreme caution for where we put our hope”. Thank you.
Love Scottie. Love his interviews. The gospel grounds him in ways that both comfort him so that he can win and discomfort him so that winning is never ultimate. Love your article reflecting on the Shuffle.
I’m glad to see a piece on this on Mbird; the moment I saw that interview on ESPN, I thought, “This is pure Mockingbird fodder.” (Hat tip also to Xander Schauffele, who in the same article said he had no idea where most of his trophies were.) What an incredibly astute observation from Scheffler. It seems like this approach is the only way to remain (or become) well-adjusted when you’ve spent your whole life battling to get to the top of your sport. He is a fascinating person… recall too what he said right before competing in the Olympic Games: “Ultimately, we’ll be forgotten.” How amazing is that?!
He reminds me a bit of Ash Barty, who had spent over 120 weeks as the world number one in women’s tennis and captured titles at three different majors when she suddenly announced her retirement in 2022 at age 26. She said at the time that she’d accomplished everything she wanted to in tennis, even though it was clear she could easily win more major titles and spend more time at number one. She gave it up because there were other things in life she felt were more important. I’m not saying Scheffler is going to suddenly retire, but his words have a similar valence to what Barty said when she retired.
“God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” -Eric Liddell character in “Chariots of Fire.”
(Eric never said these exact words, but the screenwriter summed up his Christian perspective well. )
Maybe it’s the same for Scheffler. He feels God’s pleasure when he excels at his God-given gift.