CHARLOTTE, N.C. — Eleven months ago, Jon Rahm told us the truth, but he did it in the roundabout way he favors when he’s feeling particularly peeved.
It was Tuesday morning at the U.S. Open at Pinehurst, and Rahm was in a personal kind of hell. His foot was killing him, the result of an infection that ballooned into a health problem serious enough to force a medical WD, but that wasn’t the only source of his frustration.
Another issue seemed to loom over Rahm: World No. 1 and reigning Masters champion Scottie Scheffler, who was in the midst of the greatest season of the last quarter-century in professional golf, and who appeared to have already stolen the torch from Rahm as golf’s Next Great Player.
Asked at Pinehurst if he thought about Scheffler a little more during major weeks now that Scheffler had taken to blowing away fields like saplings in a storm, Rahm finally had enough. He scowled, inhaled, and fired.
“No.”
The message was blunt, and the answer was intentionally misleading. Of course he thought about Scheffler. How could he not? Their competitive DNA was identical, and it revealed itself in their shared relentlessness. Watching both men play, you felt as if both believed they could bend the universe to their will. The problem was that, in golf’s zero-sum world, only one of them actually could. Scheffler’s emergence was a threat to Rahm’s legacy.
But Rahm didn’t feel like talking about the emergence of a new killer in pro golf back in June 2024, especially not while questions swirled about his employment. Six months after switching employers for LIV, Rahm’s game hadn’t translated yet to his new tour, and fans were beginning to wonder if the relationship was causal. In Pinehurst, Rahm’s position was simple: Whether the question was about Scottie or LIV, he didn’t want to talk about it.
Rahm was a little bit more open-minded on Saturday at the PGA Championship, the same day he quieted some of the LIV questions by shooting a brilliant 67 and surging into contention at a major for the first time in nearly two years.
“Me going to LIV and playing worse in majors had nothing to do with where I was playing golf,” he said flatly. “My swing was simply not at the level it had to be for me to compete.”
But even as he spoke, having set himself up for a Sunday battle with the best player in the world, the Scheffler question still loomed. Did Rahm spend any time on Saturday looking at the leaderboard?
“I like looking at the leaderboard from day one, two, three, four,” he said with a grin. “It helps to know where you’re at.”
Rahm, 6 under, had certainly seen Scheffler’s name throughout the day on Saturday, and was certainly monitoring the World No. 1’s performance.
“In major championships, usually the crowd will tell you what’s going on,” Rahm said. “So as long as you know where you are and how far certain players are, you’re going to know what’s going on and what’s happening.”
Evidently, then, Rahm heard about how Scheffler had climbed to 11 under, three shots clear of the field, by playing Quail Hollow’s toughest 5-hole stretch at 5 under par. The World No. 1 will rise on Sunday possessing a sizable lead over his LIV doppelgänger — five shots ahead.
Though he didn’t hear it from the galleries at Quail Hollow, it’s possible Rahm also heard about what Sunday would mean for Scheffler’s legacy — pushing him to three career major victories, one more than Rahm, and two legs of the way to the career Grand Slam, the same as Rahm, despite being two years his junior.
The stage, then, is set for one of the most significant Sundays in Jon Rahm’s recent major championship history. For his employers, a Rahm win would make his home tour the training ground for multiple major champions, a significant step in LIV’s long-term goal of sitting alongside the PGA Tour as equals. For his legacy, a victory would prove Rahm capable of playing Scheffler’s hunter and killer, chasing down a player who has to date proven himself largely incapable of being caught. In either case, a win would go a long way in solidifying a legacy that at times appeared destined for major championship dominance, but in recent years mired in frustrated press conferences.
“In theory, nothing [changes]. In theory, nothing,” Rahm said of his approach to Sunday. “The process, the routine doesn’t change. The main difference is the stage, right? We are all aware what we’re here for and what’s at the end and what’s at stake. That’s the main difference.”
Indeed, we are all aware of what’s at stake. And when it came to the question of Sunday’s importance, not even Rahm could dodge an honest answer.
“I mean, hard to express how hungry I may be for a major,” he said. “About as hungry as anybody can be in this situation.”
Of course Jon Rahm is hungry. Validation is on the menu on PGA Championship Sunday.
A rare dish, offered at a table for one.
