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.
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.”
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)
