Scottie Scheffler storms to open victory, annihilating rivals with terrifying dominance
Scottie Scheffler turned Royal Portrush into his personal playground on Sunday, delivering a chilling masterclass in front-running dominance to claim the Open Championship by four shots—though truthfully, the margin felt far greater.
The American world No 1 arrived in Northern Ireland carrying a cold reputation for sealing the deal—and did so with frightening efficiency. For the tenth time in his career, Scheffler held the 54-hole lead heading into the final round of a tournament. For the tenth time, he emerged victorious.
After yanking his opening tee shot into the rough, there was a flicker of drama. That glimmer died seconds later when he lasered an iron to within inches of the flag. From that moment on, Scheffler was untouchable. By the 5th tee, the engraver could’ve comfortably started etching his name onto the Claret Jug.
He closed with a measured 68—his worst round of the week—yet still strolled in at 17 under par. The only thing in danger was the 163-year-old record of Old Tom Morris, who won by 13 strokes back in 1862. That mark survived, but Scheffler’s psychological stranglehold on this Open made it feel like a spiritual successor to golf’s most merciless victories.
His nearest “challenger”, Harris English, finished four behind. But the gap was more than numbers—it was daylight. English was never in contention, merely occupying second while Scheffler put on a display of surgical brutality.
Chris Gotterup, who hadn’t even qualified for the Open a week ago, produced a minor miracle to finish third at 12 under. His last-minute call-up and fairytale podium added a note of whimsy—but this was no storybook ending for the rest of the field. They were background noise to Scheffler’s crescendo.
Even a double bogey on the 8th—after his bunker shot smashed into the face of the trap—barely registered. He bounced back immediately with a birdie. Rivals weren’t so much chasing as crawling after him in golf shoes coated in treacle.
Royal Portrush played soft and yielding, ideal for scoring, yet no one else could muster the cold-blooded composure Scheffler radiates. With two majors already bagged this year—the Masters and US PGA—he now heads toward a potential career grand slam, his 30th birthday next June coinciding with next year’s US Open.
Rory McIlroy, the home hero, mounted a spirited but ultimately fruitless challenge. He reached 10 under, only for a costly double bogey on the 10th to snuff out his hopes. “None of us could live with what Scottie had this week,” McIlroy admitted, still moved by the roar from local fans on the 18th green. He shared seventh with Bob MacIntyre and Xander Schauffele.
Elsewhere, Wyndham Clark rebounded from controversy in stunning fashion. After being banned from Oakmont for damaging lockers following his US Open meltdown, Clark posted a tournament-best 65 on Sunday to finish fourth.
Bryson DeChambeau, another LIV rebel, began with a woeful 78 but rocketed up the leaderboard to tied 10th with a blistering 64 in the final round. Sergio García smashed his driver in frustration on the 2nd hole—his 68 afterwards proving little consolation.
Li Haotong, Scheffler’s Sunday partner, jokingly pleaded to practise with him. Scheffler’s deadpan reply? “Haotong who?” It was that kind of week. Unbothered. Unflinching. Unstoppable.
Scheffler isn’t just winning—he’s suffocating fields. This is no hot streak. This is domination. And unless something seismic shifts, the world No 1 may soon be remembered alongside the most chillingly clinical names in the sport’s history.
