After a golf drought so long it made the Sahara look like a splash park, Jenny Shin finally broke through at the Women’s Scottish Open. We’re talking 10 years, two months, and 25 days of patiently waiting while, presumably, other golfers got to experience the novel sensation of actually winning something. Shin’s victory, a testament to sheer grit and likely a very strong bladder from holding back all those emotions, was as dramatic as a finale on one of those reality TV baking shows where someone’s soufflé collapses.
She embraced the moment, then embraced people, and then probably embraced the trophy, all while bagpipes wailed a tune that sounded suspiciously like ‘It’s About Bloody Time.’ Eyewitnesses claim the champagne spray was so epic, a small but enthusiastic ecosystem has already sprung up on the 18th green. Turns out, a decade of bottled-up feelings is best uncorked with bubbly and a kilt-friendly soundtrack.
Shin shot a final-round 75, which, in layman's terms, means she decided that clinging to the lead by her fingernails was way more exciting than a stress-free stroll. Meanwhile, A Lim Kim and Nelly Korda were effectively spectators from a distance, likely enjoying the show unfold. Korda, fresh off what I can only assume was a deeply contemplative week after a missed cut, certainly made a final-round statement, if only to remind us she’s still Nelly Korda.
Shin admitted her prime years were spent in an existential quest for self-identity, which sounds about as fun as a root canal performed with a rusty spoon. She confessed to ‘drunk lives on Instagram’ and ‘really weird stuff’ during lockdowns, which, honestly, sounds like more fun than some LPGA events I’ve covered. It’s a good thing the golf gods have a sense of humor, or a very long memory for rewarding perseverance.
This win, her first in 236 LPGA starts, comes with a hefty winner’s check. It proves that sometimes, dreaming of winning before retirement is a perfectly viable career strategy. She’s the first player in three decades to achieve such a victory after a lengthy drought, which is like beating your personal best in a marathon you swore you’d quit 10 years ago.
Shin’s journey from a child prodigy to a golfer who found her spark again post-pandemic is a story arc worthy of a streaming mini-series. She even recalled feeling imposter syndrome after her first win in 2016, apparently not believing she’d earned it. This time, however, that feeling seems to have been replaced by a powerful cocktail of champagne, tears, and the satisfying knowledge that she absolutely deserves this. She’s earned it, and it feels mighty different from seven years ago.