Dear Rory,
I am tremendously pleased with your victory last week at the Masters Golf Tournament, making you only the sixth person in history to win all four major men’s golf tourneys (which include the U.S. Open, British Open and PGA Championship, along with the Masters). It was a scintillating four days, IMO, and perhaps the most draining and competitive major championship I have watched in my life. Checking my faulty memory banks, I’m highly confident I recorded and watched (fast forwarding through much of the “inaction”) close to 100 percent of the golfing.
Back to you. You were an all-time great before you completed this “career grand slam.” You would have remained a career all-time great without winning the Masters. I get it. You wanted it. It dangled in front of you, tantalizing your emotions. The announcers and media pounded on you year after year about how you needed it to secure your status with those five other golfers – Jack Nicklaus, Gene Sarazen, Tiger Woods, Gary Player and Ben Hogan. Your greatness didn’t need that win.
Yes, you’ve now checked an elite box. You stand with those five other guys until someone else comes along and becomes the seventh. Scottie Scheffler will likely tap on the door in the next five years and ask to enter that room.
That’s won’t make Scottie an all-time great. Instead, like you, it will be because over a long period of time he wins, competes, finishes annually at or near the top of the PGA tour. The media and many people are obsessed with winning, which only one person does in golf on any given week, competing against 119+ entrants on average. That means when you win on any given week, you are better than the top one percent (.83 percent to be exact) of the VERY BEST GOLFERS IN THE WORLD.
That statistic means that in your 29 career wins, you’ve finished ahead of 99.17 percent of competing golfers. You’re great. That’s great.
Let’s get back to those people who pigeonhole greatness, wanting to define it for you, putting that pressure on. What they have to say doesn’t matter. They’re talking heads. They’re not out on the course week after week, battling weather conditions, all those spectacular competitors, sore bodies, lapses in concentration, unlucky breaks. Each golfer on the PGA Tour, in contrast, does.
Things don’t always go your way. Every golfer knows that. It’s a great lesson for everyone who plays golf. I imagine most thinking people who pick up the clubs recognize this. There are bad days, bad weeks, years. Life intervenes. An argument with your spouse or the death or birth of a loved one changes your perspective and how you approach the game. It affects your swing. It affects you much you enjoy the nature of the game, which should typically involve relaxation and elements of a Zen perspective on the world – oneness with the shots you make.
Before winning the Masters, Rory, you’d already conquered four other majors (winning the PGA twice). That’s pretty darn great. You’ve won the FedEx Cup three times (the reasonably new end-of-the-year three-round tournament to crown the best player for the year on the PGA Tour). The only other player to win even two FedEx Cups is Tiger Woods. That’s great company. You are at the top of that list.
Don’t let the pundits and media define you, Rory. Define yourself. It’s clear, given your reactions after pulling off your stunning victory last week, that you placed a gigantic burden on yourself and wanted the Masters incredibly badly. I get it. You deserve it.
I’ve rooted for you for the 18 years you’ve been on the PGA Tour. I will continue to root for you regardless of whether you win another major. IMHO, you have been the greatest golfer on the Tour for the last 15 years. Others have had a run at you, and yeah, Scottie is crushing it these past three years. But, your body of work, which defines GREATNESS, is the best if you look cumulatively the past 15 years. That’s a ton of victories. And many, many other top ten finishes. That’s greatness, Rory. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.
FORE!
I am tremendously pleased with your victory last week at the Masters Golf Tournament, making you only the sixth person in history to win all four major men’s golf tourneys (which include the U.S. Open, British Open and PGA Championship, along with the Masters). It was a scintillating four days, IMO, and perhaps the most draining and competitive major championship I have watched in my life. Checking my faulty memory banks, I’m highly confident I recorded and watched (fast forwarding through much of the “inaction”) close to 100 percent of the golfing.
Back to you. You were an all-time great before you completed this “career grand slam.” You would have remained a career all-time great without winning the Masters. I get it. You wanted it. It dangled in front of you, tantalizing your emotions. The announcers and media pounded on you year after year about how you needed it to secure your status with those five other golfers – Jack Nicklaus, Gene Sarazen, Tiger Woods, Gary Player and Ben Hogan. Your greatness didn’t need that win.
Yes, you’ve now checked an elite box. You stand with those five other guys until someone else comes along and becomes the seventh. Scottie Scheffler will likely tap on the door in the next five years and ask to enter that room.
That’s won’t make Scottie an all-time great. Instead, like you, it will be because over a long period of time he wins, competes, finishes annually at or near the top of the PGA tour. The media and many people are obsessed with winning, which only one person does in golf on any given week, competing against 119+ entrants on average. That means when you win on any given week, you are better than the top one percent (.83 percent to be exact) of the VERY BEST GOLFERS IN THE WORLD.
That statistic means that in your 29 career wins, you’ve finished ahead of 99.17 percent of competing golfers. You’re great. That’s great.
Let’s get back to those people who pigeonhole greatness, wanting to define it for you, putting that pressure on. What they have to say doesn’t matter. They’re talking heads. They’re not out on the course week after week, battling weather conditions, all those spectacular competitors, sore bodies, lapses in concentration, unlucky breaks. Each golfer on the PGA Tour, in contrast, does.
Things don’t always go your way. Every golfer knows that. It’s a great lesson for everyone who plays golf. I imagine most thinking people who pick up the clubs recognize this. There are bad days, bad weeks, years. Life intervenes. An argument with your spouse or the death or birth of a loved one changes your perspective and how you approach the game. It affects your swing. It affects you much you enjoy the nature of the game, which should typically involve relaxation and elements of a Zen perspective on the world – oneness with the shots you make.
Before winning the Masters, Rory, you’d already conquered four other majors (winning the PGA twice). That’s pretty darn great. You’ve won the FedEx Cup three times (the reasonably new end-of-the-year three-round tournament to crown the best player for the year on the PGA Tour). The only other player to win even two FedEx Cups is Tiger Woods. That’s great company. You are at the top of that list.
Don’t let the pundits and media define you, Rory. Define yourself. It’s clear, given your reactions after pulling off your stunning victory last week, that you placed a gigantic burden on yourself and wanted the Masters incredibly badly. I get it. You deserve it.
I’ve rooted for you for the 18 years you’ve been on the PGA Tour. I will continue to root for you regardless of whether you win another major. IMHO, you have been the greatest golfer on the Tour for the last 15 years. Others have had a run at you, and yeah, Scottie is crushing it these past three years. But, your body of work, which defines GREATNESS, is the best if you look cumulatively the past 15 years. That’s a ton of victories. And many, many other top ten finishes. That’s greatness, Rory. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.
FORE!