It’s right there on the first page of the Rules of Golf: A bill of rights. It runs precisely eleven words in length.
“Play by the Rules and in the spirit of the game.“
These are simple, all-encompassing edicts, and they are intentionally vague. But if you would like to know exactly how the spirit of the game is intended, an example arrived 24 hours before Tommy Fleetwood’s latest heartbreak, on Saturday at this week’s FedEx St. Jude Championship.
“I would way rather be there and fail than not be there at all,” Fleetwood said while clutching the 54-hole lead on Saturday evening, hours before wilting with a late Sunday lead to Justin Rose.
“I just look forward to the opportunities, giving myself a chance, chasing my dreams,” he said. “Whether they happen or not — that’s another story. But I’m looking forward to it nonetheless.”
Yes, these lines are emblematic of Fleetwood’s legacy in between the ropes, but the truth is that they speak to so much more about the golfer at the center of Sunday’s heartbreak.
First, though, the elephant in the room. In a career that has brought Fleetwood success in nearly every arena, the greatest success of all — a PGA Tour victory — has remained elusive. Fleetwood has started 162 PGA Tour events since joining the big tour, and each of those has ended in a loss.
In 2025, the heartbreaks have taken on a new shade. Fleetwood’s game has ascended and the stars have aligned … but it has amounted to little more than a swift kick in the pants. On Sunday, Fleetwood wrote the latest chapter of his own misery with another Sunday collapse in Memphis.
“You know, we move on,” he said in a dejected interview Sunday. “There’s another week that’s next and I’ve just got to reflect on today and obviously keep pushing forward and try and put myself in that position again.”
From a distance, it is tempting to attribute something honorable to Fleetwood’s relentlessness. His optimism, his willingness to keep pursuing his dreams in the face of failure — these are the traits we value in our athletes. But the truth is that these words are not revealing of Tommy Fleetwood. Professional golfers are relentless by necessity, and their careers are a near-ceaseless march between failures.
In other words, Fleetwood didn’t tell us anything when he said he’d keep going. (The steady churn of the golf schedule is, after all, the source of his income.) He told us something by the fact he’d said anything at all.
On Sunday, even after another heartbreak, Fleetwood spoke to the world, as he has done after every high and low of his professional career. While consistency has eluded Fleetwood in the biggest moments, it has not in the moments after them. Fleetwood has handled his failures with dignity, with honesty, and without fail.
That trend continued again on Sunday, after what surely felt like the most gutting loss yet. His interview lasted just three questions, and did not wade deeply into his innermost thoughts. Thankfully, it did not need to. His words alone spoke volumes.
“As disappointed as I am, I have to try to find the strength to make it all a positive experience,” Fleetwood said. “We just go again.”
Of course, we should be careful not to heap praise upon professional golfers simply for existing. As a player who was compensated very handsomely for his disappointing performance on Sunday, it should not be surprising to hear Fleetwood speak.
But at the end of a weird season in PGA Tour player relations — one marked by several spats between players and the press and the public — Fleetwood’s words were revealing. For so many players who have blown off interviews in 2025, the lows were not nearly as painful as what Fleetwood faced on Sunday in Memphis. And yet, by failing to speak, those same players only magnified the depth of their own shame.
Fleetwood, in contrast, magnified the depth of his own humanity. His interview was not a painful exercise in self-flagellation, but rather an important reminder that failure in outcome does not have to mean failure in spirit.
“All these experiences and these close calls, like I say, there’s no point in allowing them to have a negative effect on what happens next,” Fleetwood said. “What would be the point?”
Tommy Fleetwood’s trophy case remained empty on Sunday evening in Memphis — the latest snakebite in a career involving far too many.
But it is a trophy all its own to lose with dignity. It is golf — real golf — in body and in spirit.
You can reach the author at james.colgan@golf.com.
