Lee Trevino’s one-liners tend to last. Quick and pleasingly structured, they ring the bell with sharp wit and hard truth. For example: “You can talk to a fade, but a hook won’t listen.” Sometime in the 1970s, when Trevino mused that “nobody gets everything,” golf got a new aphorism.
The six-time major winner had likely been spurred by a question about his 1971 U.S. Open playoff victory over Jack Nicklaus, who Trevino has always considered both the GOAT and a poor wedge player.
Trevino was, and remains at age 86, a student of golf history and a savant, and his larger point was that the game is simply too vast, various and difficult to be completely mastered.
He had plenty of evidence at the time. Any list of golf’s all-time top 20 reveals that nearly all had a weakness, not just one that was simply the least of the player’s own strengths but an actual liability in competition, something close to negative strokes gained.
With Vardon, Hogan and Snead, it was short putting. With Hagen, Watson and Ballesteros, it was driving accuracy. With Nicklaus and Palmer, it was pitches around the green. Sarazen and Player both fought a low hook; Mickelson and Norman both a high block. Trevino himself struggled to hit long irons with sufficient height, distance and stopping power.
That’s right: Great as they were, they weren’t complete.
Before getting too carried away, let’s establish that completeness—being strong in every facet of the game—is not an end all. The players mentioned above all habitually beat more complete players because their strengths (Hogan’s precision, Nicklaus’ power, Player’s scrambling, Watson’s putting, Trevino’s repetition) were so extraordinary. These players routinely overwhelmed their weaknesses.
FLUSHERS: Although never as celebrated as The Big Three of Palmer, Nicklaus and Player, Billy Casper’s all-around abilities were revered by his peers. • Casper photograph by Andrew Redington/Getty Images; Scheffler photograph by Jared C. Tilon/Getty Images
For those who happen to be great, the path to becoming greater is to become more complete, especially in majors, where conditions force the most mistakes and weaknesses are most exposed and so, by definition, majors are more rewarding of completeness. What’s intriguing is that this quality is likely becoming more attainable.
For an old-school view of being complete, consider how Nicklaus looked back on his short-game weakness. For years, his glib assessment of his short game was, “I didn’t need one.” But he was more reflective in a 2010 Golf Digest story, realizing that he had missed an element because Jack Grout didn’t teach short game, and he hadn’t gone to see Paul Runyan, and frankly, he didn’t want to mess around with what he had and possibly get more screwed up. When Phil Rodgers finally helped a desperate Nicklaus in 1979 with his short game and paved the way for two major wins in 1980, Nicklaus understood he had left a lot of talent, and probably championships, on the table.
“Because I didn’t have a real good short game, my philosophy becameI’m going to hit 14 or 15 greens, I’m going to hit at least a couple of par 5s in two, and I’m going to make every putt inside 10 feet,” Nicklaus said. “That’s what I thought, like it really didn’t make any difference how good my short game was. As long as I could chip the ball, slop it around the hole somewhere—six, eight, 10 feet—I was going to probably make it anyway. But that was an accommodation. It wasn’t ideal, and it was foolish for me to believe that it was good enough.”
For years, Nicklaus’ glib assessment of his short game was, “I didn’t need one.”
According to Trevino, Nicklaus being complete would have dramatically altered golf history. “If Jack had had a wedge, no doubt in my mind, he would have won 30 majors,” Trevino said in the same story. “I mean, he was so good at everything else.”
Of course, the caliber of completeness that Trevino had envisioned for Nicklaus eventually did show up in the person of Tiger Woods. By achieving an unprecedented mastery of every part of the game, he both debunked Trevino—who has always rooted Tiger on—and forever stretched the boundaries of the possible.
Woods’ mantra was “no limits.” In his epic year of 2000, he led the PGA Tour in more than 20 statistical categories. The worst ranking he earned was 54th in driving accuracy, a remarkably good number (and what would be his career best) for such a long hitter. Woods took the opportunity to only half-jokingly warn the perennial straightest driver at the time, Fred Funk, that he was coming for him.
Today, Woods remains unchallenged as the greatest complete player, surpassing Bobby Jones, Byron Nelson and Billy Casper. “There was a moment when Tiger might have been the very best at every department—driving, metals, irons, short game, sand play, putter, all of it,” recalls Nick Faldo, who also excelled through the whole bag winning six majors. “No one had ever been that, and I wonder if anyone will again.”
The multiple-major-winning No. 1 players who followed Tiger performed admirably, but none filled the void. Rory McIlroy was brilliant but mistake-prone with the shorter clubs. Jordan Spieth’s driver was a weakness. Dustin Johnson became surprisingly well-rounded after dramatically improving his short game and putting but stopped pushing. Brooks Koepka seemed complete whenever he was winning one his five majors but strangely only then. Jon Rahm possessed an extensive arsenal but lost momentum after going to LIV, although his runner-up at the 2026 PGA Championship was a blast from the past.
However, next in line was Scottie Scheffler, and what’s possible has once again changed Scheffler.
TALL TEXANS: Scheffler (with Ted Scott) seeks the kind of mastery Byron Nelson attained in winning 11 in a row in 1945. • Nelson photograph by Bettmann/Getty Images; Scheffler photograph by Warren Little/Getty Images
Scheffler first became No. 1 in March 2022 and currently has held the position by mostly wide margins for more than 160 consecutive weeks, a run exceeded only by Woods’ separate streaks of 281 and 264. Through his runner-up finish at the Travelers Championship (his fourth in 2026), Scheffler has 20 victories, four majors and an Olympic gold medal. Yes, McIlroy has six majors, 30 PGA Tour victories and the career Grand Slam, but the relentless excellence of Scheffler has made him, not Rory, the second-best player of the century.
Like Tiger, Scheffler is the very rare complete player at the very highest level of the game, but he is not Woods. Scheffler is not as dynamic, dramatic or supremely athletic. He doesn’t have quite the power with the longer clubs, not quite the touch with the putter; he’s not as dominant. Whereas Scheffler achieved his largest lead in the OWGR last year by doubling No. 2 McIlroy’s total, Woods in 2001 nearly tripled the total of No. 2 Phil Mickelson. Nobody is saying Scheffler, who has led several statistical ball-striking categories since becoming No. 1, is better than everybody else in every individual department.
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Scheffler has his own style—not as brilliant but possibly steadier and more repetitive. Whether because of a slightly slower swing speed, less club rotation through the ball, more conservative course management or fewer swing-change transitions, Scottie’s misses aren’t as wild as Tiger’s. In style of play tee to green, Scheffler is more like the risk-averse Nicklaus than the more explosive Woods.
Both have a weakness relative to their strengths. Woods’ was driving accuracy, particularly in the second half of his prime, while Scheffler has suffered startling bouts of poor short putting. However, both were able to maintain their overall level, their problems more intermittent than chronic. In 2006, amid criticisms of his driving, Tiger ran off seven wins in a row.
While Scheffler has never been statistically superior on the greens, he has lost strokes putting in only one season, 2023, when he ranked a horrendous 162nd in strokes gained. With the help of Phil Kenyon and a switch to a claw grip on shorter putts, he got down to a career-best 22nd in strokes-gained putting in 2025. This year, despite a momentary and untimely relapse at the PGA Championship where he ranked 72nd in putting among the 82 finishers, Scheffler has stayed near the top 20 (26th) on tour in the category, proof of significant improvement.
Woods has always been complimentary of his successor, regarding Scheffler’s putting as a reliable role player on a dynastic team. “If he putts decent, he’s going to win,” Woods said in a May 2024 appearance on the “Today Show.” “If he putts great, he blows away fields. If he has a bad putting week, he contends. He’s just that good of a ball-striker.” That December, Woods issued a complete-player-to-complete-player compliment that was understated but said it all: “He doesn’t really do anything really wrong.”
EQUALS IN EQUANIMITY: A less apparent trait shared by Nicklaus and Scheffler is the ability to keep golf in proper perspective. • Nicklaus photograph by David Cannon/Getty Images; Scheffler photograph by Andy Lyons/Getty Images
Scheffler’s best might be ahead of him. Even if it isn’t, he will go down in history as the first player who walked through the barricaded door that Tiger broke down. Consciously or subliminally, others, such as Cameron Young and Matt Fitzpatrick, seem ready to follow. As McIlroy said of his mind-set while winning at Pebble Beach last year, three months before he finally completed the career Grand Slam: “Just really try to limit the mistakes and play smart golf and be a little more like Scottie Scheffler basically.”
Regardless of his example, replicating Scottie’s path will be difficult. That’s because it’s arguable that no great player has ever had as fertile an environment in which to grow up to be a successful professional golfer.
Already in love with the game when his family moved from New Jersey to Dallas when he was 6, Scheffler began an accelerated journey when his parents took out a loan to join Royal Oaks C.C. There, Randy Smith was the teaching professional with a bevy of current and future touring pros as students, including Justin Leonard, Harrison Frazar, Ryan Palmer and Colt Knost. They all practiced and competed together and trash-talked in a kind of gritty Texas-style salon of golf—and they let a grade-school prodigy hang around.
“Randy doesn’t get enough credit for creating that culture at Royal Oaks,” says Mark Brooks, the 1996 PGA Championship winner who now coaches promising young players with aspirations to play professional golf. “Scottie got a huge head start.”
Scheffler is more like the risk-averse Nicklaus than the more explosive Woods.
At an age when the brain has extra plasticity, Scheffler took in the highest form of the game up close and personal. Royal Oaks became an incubator of intensive imitation, with Scheffler exposed to all manner of specialty shots, techniques, strategies and friendly but fierce competitions, the process of becoming a complete well underway.
“Scottie would sit on the ground while I was working with tour guys hitting shots, and he’d be watching what the golf ball is doing, just making these wonderful notes in his head,” Smith says. “When he got full with what he wanted to see, he’d pop up and go down to the range and hit all those shots. We would work on technical things, certainly, but he was always just out there shaping shots.”
“Scottie would watch us practice like a hawk and be all quiet,” Knost says. Then he’d go off and copy what he saw and come back and do it better than you did. Of course, then he’d talk—a lot.”
The mind-set that values these habits is ingrained in Scheffler. “For me, getting better at golf is such an interesting and fun thing to try and accomplish,” Scheffler said at the PGA. “When I can go out by myself and practice and have something that I want to work on, it’s one of my favorite things. I love trying to figure things out. That’s always what’s driven me.”
That should lend some perspective to the surprisingly candid reflection Scheffler shared with the media before last year’s Open Championship at Portrush. Calling himself “kind of a sicko” for caring so much about winning when the desired result can feel so fleeting, Scheffler confessed that “sometimes, I just don’t understand the point.”
It’s the natural ambivalence of a gifted person in the public arena who wants to have a normal family life but also knows the more chaotic one will allow him to express his special talent in a fulfilling way. That he’s content with the tradeoff is evidenced by what he told the media at last year’s Tour Championship was the turning point in his career—the final round of the 2020 Masters. It was the first time he played with Woods.
HATS OFF: Woods has been complimentary of Scheffler, recognizing him as a successor. • Woods photograph by Andy Lyons/Getty Images; Scheffler photograph by Kevin C. Cox/Getty Images
Scheffler had noticed on the very first hole that “Tiger was just different in the sense of the way he approached each shot, it was like the last shot he was ever going to hit.” After Woods made a 10 on the 12th hole and then birdied five of the last six, Scheffler realized that he needed another mental gear.
“I just admired the intensity that he brought to each round, and that’s something that I try to emulate,” Scheffler said, “That was something that I just thought about for a long time. I felt like a change I needed to make was bringing that same intensity to each round and each shot.”
After concluding that story, Scheffler talked about having won the Open at Portrush by four strokes (where he had referred to himself as a “sicko” before the championship). “I just brought a lot of intensity to each shot that week,” he said proudly, as if it had been the culmination of that lesson at Augusta.
Trevino noticed, too. He runs across Scheffler from time to time at Preston Trail in Dallas, where both are members. “I don’t know of any weaknesses he has,” Trevino says. “I like everything. Helluva chipper. I like that he went to the claw. Focus. How he can go up with those irons.” Laughing, Trevino says, “Well, I guess Scottie has it all. He and Tiger both retired whatever I said.”
Then Trevino turned serious. “I’ll tell you the thing that Scottie has got more than anyone I’ve ever seen who is that good. He is at peace with himself. He doesn’t think and play golf 24/7 and worry about it like I did or Arnold did or Gary did, the way so many of us did. He’s like Jack that way in that he can separate. It gives him a little extra, so when you talk about complete, that’s what really makes Scottie complete.”
