Collin Morikawa birdied the 72nd hole at Pebble Beach on Sunday to end a 28-month winless streak — 45 starts without a victory for a guy who had won two majors by age 24. Then he announced he's going to be a father. It was the kind of moment that makes you forget you're watching a golf tournament and remember you're watching a human being figure things out in real time.
But the most interesting part of Morikawa's victory wasn't the clutch birdie on 18, or even the 20-minute wait while Jacob Bridgeman played off the beach. It was what Morikawa said about why he'd been stuck.
The Trap of Playing Not to Lose
Here's the quote that should be printed and taped to every golfer's bag: "When I came out to turn pro, my only goal was to win."
That was Morikawa reflecting on a conversation with his longtime coach Rick Sessinghaus, who he returned to in mid-2024 after a brief split. Sessinghaus pointed out something that seems obvious in hindsight: somewhere along the way, Morikawa had stopped playing to win and started playing to protect. Making cuts. Grinding for top-20s. Playing safe golf that kept his ranking respectable but never put him in position to close.
This isn't a Morikawa-specific problem. It's maybe the most common mental trap in all of golf, and it doesn't just happen on Tour.
Think about your own rounds. How often do you play a par-5 thinking about birdie versus thinking about avoiding the water? How often do you aim for the center of the green because you're terrified of the bunker, when the pin is sitting 15 feet right and you have the shot to get close?
That's the difference between playing to win and playing not to lose. And it changes everything — your target selection, your commitment to shots, your body language, even your tempo.
Morikawa's Numbers Tell the Story
The stats during Morikawa's drought were maddening. His ball-striking remained elite — he's one of the best iron players of his generation and that never really went away. But his Strokes Gained: Putting dropped to 156th on Tour. He'd begin final rounds in second place or better six times since the start of 2024 and fail to convert every single time.
On the surface, that looks like a putting problem. And sure, making more putts would've helped. But Sessinghaus identified something deeper: Morikawa wasn't struggling with his stroke. He was struggling with his intent. When you're playing not to lose, you don't commit fully to reads. You leave birdie putts short. You play for the center of the cup instead of trusting your line.
When Morikawa fired a 10-under 62 in Saturday's third round at Pebble — the best ball-striking round of his PGA Tour career — it wasn't because he'd overhauled his swing. It was because he stopped managing his game and started attacking.
The Historical Pattern
Morikawa isn't the first elite player to get stuck in this cycle. The PGA Tour is littered with examples.
Jordan Spieth went through years of contending without winning after his incredible 2015-2017 run, falling into a pattern of overthinking his mechanics rather than trusting his natural ability to score. Rory McIlroy famously went 11 years between his fourth and fifth major titles — a drought that had nothing to do with his physical talent and everything to do with the mental weight of closing on Sundays.
Stewart Cink broke an 11-year winless drought at age 47. Luke Donald went nearly a decade between wins despite being ranked number one in the world at one point.
The pattern is always the same: incredible talent, consistent high finishes, an inability to take the final step. And the fix is almost never mechanical. It's a recalibration of intent.
What This Means for the Rest of Us
You don't need to be competing for $3.6 million checks for this to matter. The playing-not-to-lose trap shows up at every level of the game.
The weekend player trying to break 90 starts steering drives instead of making full swings once they get to the back nine with a chance.
The 15-handicap in a club tournament lays up on every par-5 because they're afraid of one bad hole wrecking their card, never giving themselves eagle looks that could make their round.
The scratch player trying to qualify for an amateur event starts playing conservative, percentage golf when what got them to that level was creative, aggressive shot-making.
Here's the thing Sessinghaus helped Morikawa rediscover: playing to win doesn't mean being reckless. It means being decisive. It means picking a target and committing to it fully rather than hedging. It means accepting that bad shots will happen and they don't define the round.
A Practical Framework
If you recognize yourself in any of this, here's a simple approach to reset your mindset:
Before each shot, define what "winning" looks like. Not for the round — for that specific shot. Where do you want the ball to go? Not where's the safe play. Not where avoids the worst outcome. Where would you put it if you had full confidence?
Then assess honestly. Is that target within your skill set? If you're a 20-handicap, firing at a tucked pin over water probably isn't playing to win — it's playing to look good on one shot. But if you're a 10-handicap with a 150-yard 7-iron and the pin is 12 feet past a greenside bunker, play to that pin. Commit to the shot.
Commit fully or change the plan. The worst place to be is in between. If you're going to play safe, commit to safe with full conviction. If you're going to attack, attack with full conviction. What kills scores is the in-between: aiming at the pin with a safe-play swing, or aiming safe while trying to muscle one close.
Reframe mistakes as information, not as threats. Morikawa's turning point wasn't eliminating bad shots — it was changing how he responded to them. A missed fairway isn't a reason to play defense for the next three holes. It's one shot. Move on. The next shot is a new opportunity to play with intent.
The Birdie on 18
The moment that best captures Morikawa's mental reset wasn't his incredible 30-foot birdie on 15, or even the six-iron stiffed to eight feet on the hole before. It was the 20-minute wait on the 18th tee while Bridgeman sorted out his situation on the beach below.
Twenty minutes standing over a one-shot lead at Pebble Beach. Twenty minutes to think about what's at stake. Twenty minutes where the old Morikawa might have tightened up, aimed for the safe part of the fairway, laid up to a comfortable number, and two-putted for par.
Instead, he hit a 4-iron to the collar of the green in two and made birdie to win by one.
That's what playing to win looks like. Not reckless. Not ignoring the pressure. Just choosing to keep attacking when every instinct says to protect what you have.
Next time you're standing over a shot that matters — whether it's for a Tour title or a $5 Nassau — ask yourself: am I playing to win, or am I playing not to lose?
The answer might change your round.
