The easy joke that came to mind as Scottie Scheffler removed his cap and strode up the 18th fairway Sunday at Royal Portrush Golf Club, the British Open long since grabbed by the throat: Will he enjoy his fourth major championship for more than two minutes? When the final putt fell, he did not pump his fist. He did not buckle at the knees. Only when he saw his wife and young son at the side of the green did he thrust his arms in the air and toss his cap high. He finally saw what matters to him.

The year’s final major was about Scheffler’s golf, sure, because it was nearly impeccable. History will show it was more about his ethos. Before he even put a peg in the ground, the best player in the world — by a mile, it turns out — not only allowed raw insight into how he handles his life, he in

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