Culture
The secret behind Xander Schauffele’s career year? ‘I was actually feeling ready to win’
Steter Tropfen höhlt den Stein. The German proverb, roughly translated into English, means: Steady dripping caves the stone. It appears in other languages and literary forms, but this iteration stuck with Xander Schauffele as a boy.
It’s the one Schauffele’s father, Stefan, reiterated until it seeped into his vocabulary. From the onset of Schauffele’s relationship with golf, motivational allegories and philosophical adages were fed into his psyche. That’s how his father thinks and speaks. It became how the son thinks and speaks, how Schauffele constructed the mind and game that won two major championships in one summer.
Schauffele’s rise was slow and incremental, steadied by the omnipresent hand of his father, who doubled as his swing coach from pre-junior golf to the PGA Tour.
The nature of Schauffele’s climb was exactly what critics pointed to as the potential downfall of his career. If you were taught to lurk, could you win? If you were bred to embrace being an underdog, would it sting always being in the top 10 but never lifting the trophy?
Schauffele didn’t want to say it then, but he’ll admit it now. Those questions reverberated in his mind as the close calls stacked up, as the PGA Tour wins came but he became a supporting actor in the majors: Always on the leaderboard, never on top of it.
Then he did it. Twice. In 2024, Schauffele shut down a festering, years-long narrative: He won the PGA and Open Championships, and suddenly went from being the best-not-to-win one to a player two trophies away from a career grand slam.
It was always in his subconscious, but he had to remember. There was supposed to be a process — a steady drip. The question was whether he would persist, and whether he’d believe.
“Maybe there was more self-belief this year than ever. And maybe it took me time to get to that point,” Schauffele says. “Everyone’s supposed to believe in themselves, everyone’s supposed to imagine themselves winning. I think until you truly do that and it’s actually a genuine thing, you won’t really see it through. You can say those words, but for me, I was actually feeling ready to win.”
This counts as revelatory for Schauffele, an admission of something other than resolute strength for a 31-year-old who walks the course with a confident swagger. Unwavering consistency was always what Schauffele intended to be his ticket to the top, and it showed in the progression of his game. If you judge it by advanced statistics, he was already the most consistent player in golf. But in 2024 he made bogey or worse on only 9.4 percent of his holes — setting a new PGA Tour record, eclipsing Tiger Woods’ all-time 2000 season.
“I grew this year, but for the most part I’ve been sort of preparing myself my entire life for those moments,” Schauffele says.
Stefan could see what was coming before Schauffele. A year ago, celebrating Christmas in San Diego, the father/coach sat down with the son/protege for a one-on-one conversation. End-of-year transitions always feel pivotal to Stefan. Time to take accountability. To craft purpose.
He looked at Schauffele, days before the pair would travel to Hawaii for the 2024 opening tournament, and came forward with a proclamation: “The team is ready for you to win a major.”
Then he stepped away, becoming just dad.
For this next stage of life, Stefan decided to move as far away as possible from his younger son, which is why he finds himself pausing mid-sentence at the sight of a pod of whales breaching in the Pacific Ocean.
Standing on a plot of farmland in Kauai, Hawaii, Stefan is working on building a family compound. The “Ogre,” as he’s known on the PGA Tour, always sporting a fedora, black shades and a linen polo, timed his expedition intentionally.
For a year and a half, Stefan lived in a 20-foot shipping container with no electricity, hot water or bathroom, away from his wife and Xander’s mother, Ping-Yi, for months at a time. He recently moved onto a second piece of property that includes a real house, so she can visit more often, and a warehouse, so tradesmen can come in and out from Hawaii’s mainland to assist the project.
Stefan is preparing the land to grow tuberous roots, like taro, araimo and satoimo. He’ll plant avocado trees for an oil supply. Everything will be ready for the Schauffeles in two to three years, perfect timing for their grandchildren to play with the animals. Yes, there will be livestock — Shetland ponies and miniature highland cows. Xander and his older brother, Nico, aren’t allowed to see it until it’s done.
Stefan Schauffele, left, held dual roles in Xander’s life: Father and coach. That changed in 2024. (Andrew Redington / Getty Images)
There’s a vision. There’s a process. It began with the decision to step away from being Xander’s coach, a departure he wished had happened sooner. He knew the time would come, when he could no longer serve his son’s needs in his expertise. The question of how to make the transition was harder.
Which is why as Xander lifted his first major championship trophy, Stefan was closer to Tokyo than Louisville, Ky., resigned to watch the moment on television from one of Hawaii’s farthest outlying islands.
“I cannot explain to you how close (Xander and I) are,” he says. “It is stupid. I had to literally do what I’m doing right now in order to create separation.”
An accomplished decathlete in his prime, Stefan cultivated his son’s competitive drive the only way he knew. “He basically treated me as a young pro from a really young age,” Xander says.
The father viewed golf as a multidisciplinary game, just like his 10-event sport. Stefan took so much pride in his will to win, he used unusual tactics in an effort to bring it out of his son — ones he knew shouldn’t be implemented in most parent-child relationships.
“I had to find ways for Xander to openly oppose me and fight with me, not physically, but oppose me strongly. I worked hard on that, sometimes with unfair methods: I would cheat in ping pong until he got so upset that he started standing up to me at a pretty young age,” Stefan says.
A bond of mutual respect led to persistence becoming part of Xander’s nature. That was the precursor to the father and son’s on-course relationship and to Xander’s trek to the top.
As a boy, Stefan asked his son if he wanted to be like Fred Couples or Tiger Woods. Play the game by feel or study its intricacies? Xander chose the latter. He wanted to know everything about the mechanics of his swing. Stefan would explain the concepts to him, but he had to prove the basis of his knowledge with evidence. Xander acted with the kind of stubbornness that Stefan felt was necessary. In turn, Xander listened to his father’s philosophies about demeanor and body language. It all connected back to a central principle.
If you are playing alone — Stefan would ask his son — on a golf course in the middle of a forest, and you miss a three-foot putt, are you going to throw a tantrum? “The answer is no. When you do it on TV, it’s all fake. It’s all an act. We cut out all of the acting and the fakeness,” Schauffele said.
“Golf is a long career,” he continued. “You can almost guarantee that anybody that is pretentious will eventually suffer some kind of defeat by his own ego.”
Xander Schauffele’s PGA Championship win made even the stoic Schauffele smile. (Ross Kinnaird / Getty Images)
The same themes were hammered into Xander’s mind through college golf, the Web.com Tour and the PGA Tour.
At the qualifier for the 2017 U.S. Open, a PGA Tour rookie Schauffele was paired with Steve Stricker, the latter vying for a spot in the national championship in his home state, Wisconsin’s Erin Hills. He watched as the 50-year-old put together a string of birdies in the latter half of the 36-hole day, turning a slow start into a highlight reel. It was the perfect microcosm of the old German proverb. Stefan’s lurk-in-the-shadows strategy had come to life. Schauffele was just finally seeing it for himself.
Schauffele qualified for that U.S. Open too, resulting in a tie for fifth place in his first major start. Three weeks later, he won his first PGA Tour event.
“Stricker didn’t panic when things weren’t going his way. He stayed the course, and all of sudden rattled off eight or nine birdies and he was leading the tournament. Where did that come from? For me, my career doesn’t feel too dissimilar from that sort of mentality,” Schauffele says.
Schauffele was never “the guy.” He’s one of 16 players to win The Open and another major in one year, and he still isn’t. When his peers were asked to name the PGA Tour Player of the Year, 91 percent said Scottie Scheffler.
A phenomenal year by anyone’s standards has somehow still left him steeped in a shadow, cast by the potentially generational talent, Scheffler.
But Schauffele’s game wasn’t designed for him to be “the guy.” Persistence means evolution. And evolution isn’t always flashy.

When Schauffele seemed to be stuck as the player always hanging around the top five on a leaderboard, he could have stopped there. Instead, he continued to push, as he has always been taught to do.
Sometimes that push — the art of never being satisfied — requires tough decisions. At the end of 2023, the Schauffeles hired Chris Como, a leading professional golf instructor, to the inner circle that from the outside looked like it could never be cracked. A personal trainer, David Sundberg, and a physiotherapist, Marnus Marais, came on board too. Stefan backed away. He retreated, literally, into the jungle.
In 2024, Schauffele’s new team and improved process helped him gain 10 yards off the tee, meaning shorter iron shots, more birdies, and in turn, the big wins. But really, Schauffele could keep things rolling until that epiphany. That’s what got him there.
“When you’re so close, it’s such a finite thing. You’re trying to improve by a quarter of a shot in a certain part of your game,” Schauffele says. “It doesn’t seem like much on paper, but it could do the world of difference over the course of a year.”
Schauffele’s missing self-belief was found in his process.
“I think mentally, dealing with everything that led up to this year — failing and failing and having everyone say you’re potentially one of the best to have never won a major, at least in this modern era, all those things finally were just kind of put to rest,” Schauffele says.
Now he’s entering new territory. The Schauffeles evaluate progress with a year-over-year eye. Since first emerging on tour in 2017, Schauffele has rarely regressed in the official world golf rankings. He’s essentially maintained or improved his position, steadily. But now he’s No. 2.
Heading into The Sentry, the opening event of the 2025 PGA Tour season at Kapalua, Hawaii, this week as the second-best player in the world, Schauffele has an opportunity. Eighty-four weeks into a world No. 1 streak that has put Scheffler on a seemingly unreachable peak, he is out with an injured hand. Stefan will be lingering close to his son in Hawaii, taking a break from his Kauai camp to temporarily fill in as Schauffele’s manager. But as intended, the relationship is different. Schauffele is playing the best golf of his life. He’s in control.
“It’s crazy. I’m super fired up to go practice. I’m super fired up to go see my trainer. I’m super fired up to get to Hawaii,” Schauffele says. “I think it’s my eighth or ninth year on tour. And I’m still feeling that way.”
If there was ever a time to carry on, it’s now. Schauffele is ready for it. He is ready to keep caving the stone.
(Illustration: Dan Goldfarb / The Athletic; Photos: Ben Jared / PGA Tour, Tom Shaw / R&A via Getty Images)
Culture
Do You Know Where These Famous Authors Are Buried?
A strong sense of place can deeply influence a story, and in some cases, the setting can even feel like a character itself — or have a lasting influence on an author. With that in mind, this week’s literary geography quiz highlights the final stops for five authors after a life of writing. To play, just make your selection in the multiple-choice list and the correct answer will be revealed. At the end of the quiz, you’ll find links to the books if you’d like to do further reading.
Culture
What Happens When We Die? This Wallace Stevens Poem Has Thoughts.
Whatever you do, don’t think of a bird.
Now: What kind of bird are you not thinking about? A pigeon? A bald eagle? Something more poetic, like a skylark or a nightingale? In any case, would you say that this bird you aren’t thinking about is real?
Before you answer, read this poem, which is quite literally about not thinking of a bird.
Human consciousness is full of riddles. Neuroscientists, philosophers and dorm-room stoners argue continually about what it is and whether it even exists. For Wallace Stevens, the experience of having a mind was a perpetual source of wonder, puzzlement and delight — perfectly ordinary and utterly transcendent at the same time. He explored the mysteries and pleasures of consciousness in countless poems over the course of his long poetic career. It was arguably his great theme.
Stevens was born in 1879 and published his first book, “Harmonium,” in 1923, making him something of a late bloomer among American modernists. For much of his adult life, he worked as an executive for the Hartford Accident and Indemnity Company, rising to the rank of vice president. He viewed insurance less as a day job to support his poetry than as a parallel vocation. He pursued both activities with quiet diligence, spending his days at the office and composing poems in his head as he walked to and from work.
As a young man, Stevens dreamed of traveling to Europe, though he never crossed the Atlantic. In middle age he made regular trips to Florida, and his poems are frequently infused with ideas of Paris and Rome and memories of Key West. Others partake of the stringent beauty of New England. But the landscapes he explores, wintry or tropical, provincial or cosmopolitan, are above all mental landscapes, created by and in the imagination.
Are those worlds real?
Let’s return to the palm tree and its avian inhabitant, in that tranquil Key West sunset of the mind.
Until then, we find consolation in fangles.
Culture
Wil Wheaton Discusses ‘Stand By Me’ and Narrating ‘The Body’ Audiobook
When the director Rob Reiner cast his leads in the 1986 film “Stand by Me,” he looked for young actors who were as close as possible to the personalities of the four children they’d be playing. There was the wise beyond his years kid from a rough family (River Phoenix), the slightly dim worrywart (Jerry O’Connell), the cutup with a temper (Corey Feldman) and the sensitive, bookish boy.
Wil Wheaton was perfect for that last one, Gordie Lachance, a doe-eyed child who is ignored by his family in favor of his late older brother. Now, 40 years later, he’s traveling the country to attend anniversary screenings of the film, alongside O’Connell and Feldman, which has thrown him back into the turmoil that he felt as an adolescent.
Wheaton has channeled those emotions and his on-set memories into his latest project: narrating a new audiobook version of “The Body,” the 1982 Stephen King novella on which the film was based.
A few years ago, Wheaton started to float the idea of returning to the story that gave him his big break — that of a quartet of boys in 1959 Oregon, in their last days before high school, setting out to find a classmate’s dead body. “I’ve been telling the story of ‘Stand By Me’ since I was 12 years old,” he said.
But this time was different. Wheaton, who has narrated dozens of audiobooks, including Andy Weir’s “The Martian” and Ernest Cline’s “Ready Player One,” says he has come to enjoy narration more than screen acting. “I’m safe, I’m in the booth, nobody’s looking at me and I can just tell you a story.”
The fact that he, an older man looking back on his younger years, is narrating a story about an older man looking back on his younger years, is not lost on Wheaton. King’s original story is bathed in nostalgia. Coming to terms with death and loss is one of its primary themes.
Two days after appearing on stage at the Academy Awards as part of a tribute to Reiner — who was murdered in 2025 alongside his wife, Michele — Wheaton got on the phone to talk about recording the audiobook, reliving his favorite scenes from the film and reexamining a quintessential story of childhood loss through the lens of his own.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
“I felt really close to him, and my memory of him.”
Wheaton on channeling a co-star’s performance.
There’s this wonderful scene in “Stand By Me.” Gordie and Chris are walking down the tracks talking about junior high. Chris is telling Gordie, “I wish to hell I was your dad, because I care about you, and he obviously doesn’t.”
It’s just so honest and direct, in a way that kids talk to each other that adults don’t. And I think that one of the reasons that really sticks with people, and that piece really lands on a lot of audiences, and has for 40 years, is, just too many people have been Gordie in that scene.
That scene is virtually word for word taken from the text of the book. And when I was narrating that, I made a deliberate choice to do my best to recreate what River did in that scene.
“You’re just a kid,
Gordie–”
“I wish to fuck
I was your father!”
he said angrily.
“You wouldn’t go around
talking about takin those stupid shop courses if I was!
It’s like
God gave you something,
all those stories
you can make up, and He said:
This is what we got for you, kid.
Try not to lose it.
But kids lose everything
unless somebody looks out for them and if your folks
are too fucked up to do it
then maybe I ought to.”
I watched that scene a couple of times because I really wanted — I don’t know why it was so important to me to — well, I know: because I loved him, and I miss him. And I wanted to bring him into this as best as I could, right?
So I was reading that scene, and the words are identical to the script. And I had this very powerful flashback to being on the train tracks that day in Cottage Grove, Oregon. And I could see River standing next to them. They’re shooting my side of the scene and there’s River, right next to the camera, doing his off-camera dialogue, and there’s the sound guy, and there’s the boom operator. There’s my key light.
I could hear and feel it. It was the weirdest thing. It’s like I was right back there.
I was able to really take in the emotional memory of being Gordie in all of those scenes. So when I was narrating him and I’m me and I’m old with all of this experience, I just drew on what I remembered from being that little boy and what I remember of those friendships and what they meant to me and what they mean to me today.
“Rob gave me a gift. Rob gave me a career.”
Wheaton recalls the “Stand By Me” director’s way with kids on set, as well as his recent Oscars tribute.
Rob really encouraged us to be kids.
Jerry tells the most amazing story about that scene, where we were all sitting around, and doing our bit, and he improvised. He was just goofing around — we were just playing — and he said something about spitting water at the fat kid.
We get to the end of the scene, and he hears Rob. Rob comes around from behind the thing, and he goes, “Jerry!” And Jerry thinks, “Oh no, I’m in trouble. I’m in trouble because I improvised, and I’m not supposed to improvise.”
The context for Jerry is that he had been told by the adults in his life, “Sit on your hands and shut up. Stop trying to be a cutup. Stop trying to be funny. Stop disrupting people. Just be quiet.” And Jerry thinks, “Oh my God. I didn’t shut up. I’m in trouble. I’m gonna get fired.”
Rob leans in to all of us, and Rob says, “Hey, guys, do you see that? More of that. Do that!”
The whole time when you’re a kid actor, you’re just around all these adults who are constantly telling you to grow up. They’re mad that you’re being a kid. Rob just created an environment where not only was it supported that we would be kids — and have fun, and follow those kid instincts and do what was natural — it was expected. It was encouraged. We were supposed to do it.
They chanted together:
“I don’t shut up,
I grow up.
And when I look at you I throw up.”
“Then your mother goes around the corner
and licks it up,”
I said, and hauled ass out of there,
giving them the finger over my shoulder as I went.
I never had any friends later on
like the ones I had when I was twelve.
Jesus, did you?
When we were at the Oscars, I looked at Jerry. And we looked at this remarkable assemblage of the most amazingly talented, beautiful artists and storytellers. We looked around, and Jerry leans down, and he said, “We all got our start with Rob Reiner. He trusted every single one of us.”
And to stand there for him, when I really thought that I would be standing with him to talk about this stuff — it was a lot.
“I was really really really excited — like jumping up and down.”
The scene Wheaton was most looking forward to narrating: the tale of Lard Ass Hogan.
I was so excited to narrate it. It’s a great story! It’s a funny story. It’s such a lovely break — it’s an emotional and tonal shift from what’s happening in the movie.
I know this as a writer: You work to increase and release tension throughout a narrative, and Stephen King uses humor really effectively to release that tension. But it also raises the stakes, because we have these moments of joy and these moments of things being very silly in the midst of a lot of intensity.
That’s why the story of Lard Ass Hogan is so fun for me to tell. Because in the middle of that, we stop to do something that’s very, very fun, and very silly and very celebratory.
“Will you shut up and let him tell it?”
Teddy hollered.
Vern blinked.
“Sure. Yeah.
Okay.”
“Go on, Gordie,”
Chris said. “It’s not really much—”
“Naw,
we don’t expect much from a wet end like you,”
Teddy said,
“but tell it anyway.”
I cleared my throat. “So anyway.
It’s Pioneer Days,
and on the last night
they have these three big events.
There’s an egg-roll for the little kids and a sack-race for kids that are like eight or nine,
and then there’s the pie-eating contest.
And the main guy of the story
is this fat kid nobody likes
named Davie Hogan.”
When I narrate this story — whenever there is a moment of levity or humor, whenever there are those brief little moments that are the seasoning of the meal that makes it all so real and relatable — yes, it was very important to me to capture those moments.
I’m shifting in my chair, so I can feel each of those characters. It’s something that doesn’t exist in live action. It doesn’t exist in any other media.
“I feel the loss.”
Wheaton remembers River Phoenix.
The novella “The Body” is very much about Gordie remembering Chris. It’s darker, and it’s more painful, than the movie is.
I’ve been watching the movie on this tour and seeing River a lot. I remember him as a 14- and 15-year-old kid who just seemed so much older, and so much more experienced and so much wiser than me, and I’m only a year younger than him.
What hurts me now, and what I really felt when I was narrating this, is knowing what River was going through then. We didn’t know. I still don’t know the extent of how he was mistreated, but I know that he was. I know that adults failed him. That he should have been protected in every way that matters. And he just wasn’t.
And I, like Gordie, remember a boy who was loving. So loving, and generous and cared deeply about everyone around him, all the time. Who deserved to live a full life. Who had so much to offer the world. And it’s so unfair that he’s gone and taken from us. I had to go through a decades-long grieving process to come to terms with him dying.
Near the end
of 1971,
Chris
went into a Chicken Delight in Portland
to get a three-piece Snack Bucket.
Just ahead of him,
two men started arguing
about which one had been first in line. One of them pulled a knife.
Chris,
who had always been the best of us
at making peace,
stepped between them and was stabbed in the throat.
The man with the knife had spent time in four different institutions;
he had been released from Shawshank State Prison
only the week before.
Chris died almost instantly.
It is a privilege that I was allowed to tell this story. I get to tell Gordie Lachance’s story as originally imagined by Stephen King, with all of the experience of having lived my whole adult life with the memory of spending three months in Gordie Lachance’s skin.
-
South-Carolina1 week agoSouth Carolina vs TCU predictions for Elite Eight game in March Madness
-
Atlanta, GA1 day ago1 teenage girl killed, another injured in shooting at Piedmont Park, police say
-
Vermont1 week ago
Skier dies after fall at Sugarbush Resort
-
Movie Reviews4 days agoVaazha 2 first half review: Hashir anchors a lively, chaos-filled teen tale
-
Politics1 week agoTrump’s Ballroom Design Has Barely Been Scrutinized
-
Atlanta, GA1 week agoFetishist ‘No Kings’ protester in mask drags ‘Trump’ and ‘JD Vance’ behind her wheelchair
-
Entertainment4 days agoInside Ye’s first comeback show at SoFi Stadium
-
Politics1 week agoJD Vance says he was ‘obsessed’ with UFOs, believes aliens are actually ‘demons’