2026 Presidents Cup: The best closer in golf

MEDINAH, Ill.—Nick Taylor was 150 yards away knowing anything less than great was no good.

He and Corey Conners were 1 up with one to play against Scottie Scheffler and Sam Burns, but Taylor hit a foul ball off the tee that forced Conners to lay up. The Internationals were still away as Taylor stood over their third. You didn’t have to squint to see the meaning in the potential collapse, how this would be another entry in the 30-year history of this team serving as the Washington Generals of international golf.

Instead, Taylor did what he keeps doing, delivering when the moment leaves no room for anything else. His wedge nearly went in and finished close enough for the Americans to concede. Taylor still needed Scheffler to answer with a good shot rather than a great one, and needed Burns’ birdie putt to catch the lip and spin away. Such are the vagaries of match play, maddening to those inside the ropes and irresistible to everyone watching. But Taylor did his part, the latest evidence that the best closer in golf might be a 38-year-old Presidents Cup rookie.

Taylor and Conners earned the upset, providing the spark that lighted the fire to the Internationals’ shocking sweep of the Americans Friday afternoon at Medinah.

“I would say maybe I bailed myself out after that drive,” Taylor said afterwards. “Yeah, when it mattered most, it was nice to hit a close one in there and apply the pressure back to them.”

That qualification is Taylor to a T. Even after five PGA Tour victories Taylor carries himself like a man reluctant to make too much of himself. He is a Presidents Cup rookie, which at his age feels less like an introduction than a clerical oversight. He had never been picked before, not even two years ago when the event was held in his home country and the galleries in Montreal would have treated him as a folk hero. Of course, there are good reasons for that. Taylor has enjoyed a very solid career, but he has never been great, at least not in the sustained manner that greatness is usually measured. He does not overwhelm courses or occupy leaderboards for months at a time. This season he made 22 of 24 cuts, a testament to his consistency, yet recorded just one top-10 finish and failed to crack the top 50 in the FedEx Cup. There was no statistical case insisting Geoff Ogilvy had to choose him.

But, and this is where the statisticians will disagree, because what makes Taylor valuable is something that can’t be measured.

Golf often speaks of itself as a meritocracy, which why it identifies those worth watching through trophies, majors weeks, years spent making the difficult appear routine. Taylor’s résumé does not belong in that class. His is another type of fame that’s more compelling to witness. It belongs to players who can remain ordinary for long stretches and become extraordinary the instant the situation demands it, and Taylor has done that too many times for it to be dismissed as coincidence.

Three years ago, he stood over a 72-foot eagle putt on the fourth playoff hole of the RBC Canadian Open with an entire country leaning toward the television. No Canadian had won the national championship in 69 years. The putt had no business going in, right up until Taylor struck it with the perfect speed and watched it disappear, producing one of the defining scenes in his nation’s sporting history.

Eight months later at the WM Phoenix Open, Taylor birdied the 18th hole in regulation to force a playoff against Charley Hoffman, then birdied it twice more to win. At the 2025 Sony Open, he arrived at the 72nd hole needing an eagle to have any chance and chipped in from behind the green. He followed that with two more birdies in sudden death. Taylor is now 3-0 in PGA Tour playoffs, each victory accompanied by the sort of shot that usually lives only in a player’s imagination.

What we saw Friday was not that dramatic, yet required just as much gumption. He had to play with dumb yells of “51st state!” sent in his direction throughout the afternoon. He had to do it against Scheffler, who despite foursomes being his Achilles’ heel is, you know, still Scheffler. He had to do it while sitting on Thursday, and with Conners, who—while a world-class ball-striker—entered Friday 2-8-0 in 10 previous Presidents Cup matches. Taylor’s response was measured, as most things about him are. He and Conners won the fifth and sixth holes to take an early lead, gave one back at the 10th but won the 12th to go 1 up, which they held going into 17.

So what happened next, well, there’s something special about watching that quality emerge from someone like him. Ordinary is relative here; Taylor has earned more than $25 million playing professional golf and owns a career almost anyone would envy. But place him next to Scheffler and the difference is obvious. He reminds us that the most memorable performances do not always come from the people most accustomed to giving them.

“It means a lot,” Taylor said. “It was not where I wanted to put him off the tee. We were still in the hole. We’ve just got to put it back in play and give ourselves a chance. Corey made some great putts early on to give us the slim lead. I felt like we were applying pressure, not making mistakes, and to cap it off with that one—to save myself, really, from that tee shot—it felt awesome.”

It delivered only one point in a competition that requires more of them, with plenty of suffering still available to an International team that knows the feeling. But Taylor was brought to Medinah for precisely that swing on Friday afternoon. Like all great closers, the save was never in doubt.