Scottie Scheffler has won two Majors, has twelve victories in PGA Tour tournaments, two THE PLAYERS, four designated tournaments just this year and has earned over 70 million dollars in his career, almost 30 just in 2024 so far. For the gold medal in the Paris Olympic Games he is going to receive a total of 38,000 dollars from the United States Olympic Committee, practically half of what he earned for finishing in 41st place in the US Open. Well, he has never been seen more excited than this Sunday at the top of the podium, with the gold medal around his neck and listening to his anthem while the Stars and Stripes flag was raised. His tears represent the glory of the Olympic Games.
In times where the debate about professional golf revolves around money, it is comforting to experience a week like the one in Paris, with Scheffler’s tears, Fleetwood‘s happiness, Matsuyama‘s pride, Victor Perez‘s madness and even the pain of Jon Rahm. His pain hurts us. No doubt about it. It hurts us a lot. It is also the groan of all Spanish golf fans. But at the same time it comforts us with the sport. It is glory and drama. Victory and defeat. Joy and sadness. These are things that matter.
The chronicle of the last day of the Olympic Games is glory and tragedy. The glory of Scheffler, the world’s Number One, who started in a stampede to take the gold from Paris when he was no longer seen on the horizon. He seemed amortized, but he emerged as a giant to finish with a score of six under par in the last nine holes of the Le Golf National, the most difficult on the course, with four consecutive birdies on holes 14, 15, 16 and 17, where two of the four most complicated of the course are located. Imperial. Given birdie on the 14th, given birdie on the 15th, huge shot on the 16th, another beastly shot from the rough on the 17th and extraordinary putt from five meters. Two and a half hours before he was not in the fight to win and was not even a strong candidate for the medal. He opened the gap and then deployed all his arsenal. It was devastating.
The drama is represented this time by Jon Rahm. His staging was equal or more imperial than the end of Scheffler’s round. His golf was a steamroller. Birdie on the 3rd, birdie on the 4th, birdie on the 6th, birdie on the 7th, birdie on the 9th, birdie on the 10th. Score of six under in ten holes. He was an absolutely unstoppable force of nature. He designed and executed each shot exactly as he wanted, he hit each putt as if two rails were taking the ball straight to the hole. It was video game golf, insultingly superior to the rest.
He had a four-shot lead over the second with eight holes to go and, above all, beyond the result, the feeling that he was unapproachable. It was Jon and the world. Rahm and the mortals. Really, no one in their right mind thought he was going to let the gold slip away. The rest seemed a nice fight for silver and bronze. But sport, golf, oh, has these things. And worse, mind you, just ask Carolina Marín. Until the tail everything is bull and dynamics can change.
The tournament took an unexpected turn on holes 11 and 12. Jon made two mistakes. He made a three-putt where there wasn’t one in the first and signed another bogey catching the bunker off the tee in the second. Probably the only sand trap he has caught all week from the tee. Mistakes can come and don’t have to be so catastrophic, but in Jon’s case they triggered a perfect storm. In those same holes Tommy Fleetwood achieved two sovereign birdies. In less than half an hour, Rahm went from having a four-shot lead and everything under control to being tied at the top of the leaderboard with the rest of the vultures lurking…
His game was not the same anymore. He became unbalanced. He was making mistakes. All the ones he hadn’t made in a flawless week of golf. He hit a poor second shot on the 13th, although he saved par, and got into a mess of epic proportions on the 14th, missing the tee shot, missing the third shot, missing the first approach again and finally missing a one-meter putt for bogey. Terrifying. Double bogey. Suddenly, in just four holes, not only had the gold become complicated, but he had lost his footing in the fight for the medals, he was trailing. In shock.
Jon tried. He has more than enough courage and heart. And he tried. He missed a great birdie opportunity on the 15th and made a super birdie putt on the 16th to say here I am, count on me. However, the damage was already done. The dynamics had changed. Everything that used to go in, stopped doing so. Bogey on the 17th and 18th. Desperately in search of a medal that could not be. He finished fifth. Unthinkable just two hours before.
Scheffler and his 62 strokes to match the record of Le Golf National left everyone nailed to the spot. Fleetwood still had a very distant chance to tie on the 18th, but he couldn’t. He settled for a brilliant silver. And the bronze went to Matsuyama, the first leader of these Games, the guy who was always there, with ups and downs but never throwing in the towel.
In that final madness of the Games, even Rory McIlroy gave himself a chance to fight for gold with five consecutive birdies. He was on his way to becoming a Scheffler. But Roryland will always be Roryland. He sent the ball into the water on the 15th, looking for the sixth consecutive birdie, and it was over.
Scheffler, the undisputed Number One in the world, took the gold from Paris. His seventh victory of the season. The glory. Jon suffered a very hard setback, one of those that is not easy to get up from, although there is no doubt that the Barrika man will do it. He did it before and he will do it again. It’s in his DNA. Long live the Games.
