AAt 7 a.m. on April 14, in his Augusta rental home, Rory McIlroy woke up and immediately noticed a green jacket hanging on a chair. “You think, 'Yeah, that actually happened yesterday,'” he says. “What.” McIlroy became the sixth man win all four golf tournaments.
The details of what happened in the bedroom of my own Augusta home are of no interest to anyone. However, it was an unforgettable morning. I used to mistakenly believe that nothing would surpass Tiger Woods wins the 2019 Masters regarding seismic response. There were a lot of messages from friends, colleagues, family members – many of whom had no interest in golf at all. Broadcasters around the world wanted my take on what happened on Sunday at the Masters. Yes, it happened yesterday.
The first major I covered was McIlroy's debut in the same format at the 2007 Open. My first trip to Augusta was four years later; I lost my luggage and stayed in a hotel that had long been and rightly condemned. McIlroy threw away what seemed like an uncontested lead, and the rest was legendary, sometimes brutal history.
Being included in a story we tell only for others never feels cool, but watching McIlroy so closely for nearly two decades was so engrossing, so captivating that it was impossible not to root for him. Writing the words “Rory McIlroy, Masters Champion” was a truly emotional moment.
This was also fraught. It might be reasonable to assume that someone who covered more specialties than I remember had a predetermined opinion about how to write the report. I didn't and was glad it was so. Day four of the 89th Masters was outstanding. The task was simple; write what you see.
There was a brief period when I thought things would go differently when instead the final blow to McIlroy's lifelong dream was dealt. It was billed as a duel between McIlroy and Bryson DeChambeau, the Northern Irishman's nemesis 2024 US Open.
McIlroy, a natural artist with sporting immortality on the line, faces off against the LIV man, the club. “Good” or “bad” is an exaggeration, but in some ways it was true.
McIlroy made a double bogey on the first hole that Sunday. He missed an opportunity in a soft second when DeChambeau took the lead. “Not today,” said one of the media members when I caught his eye on the way to 3rd Street. I was afraid he was right. And if not today, perhaps never.
However, it would be wrong to portray the press as wanting McIlroy to fail. In this environment, as usual, there is black humor and cynicism. McIlroy is hugely popular among those who cover him. It also seemed as if everyone, including those Augusta galleries, had decided, despite McIlroy's ostensible opposition to the American, that he deserved the glory of a Master. Presumably this is the operative term because DeChambeau must have passed out.
By the 10th green, McIlroy had won the Masters. Isn't it? A birdie brought him to 14 under par. DeChambeau turned five years ago. Ludwig Oberg and Justin Rose were lurking, but no one really felt like McIlroy's Ryder Cup teammates could play the game. Rose had other ideas as he advanced to 11 (Oberg made 10 and tied at three before collapsing) and McIlroy faltered from 11th.
Well, it all seemed too simple. McIlroy found a tricky lie for his chip on the 13th green, which slid into the water. Miracle shots on the 15th – with a seven-iron, which he later gave to the club – and 17th failed to prevent the playoffs.
Harry Diamond, McIlroy's caddy and best friend, is not a professional sports psychologist but came up with the phrase of the week as the pair prepared for extra time. “Well, buddy, you should have taken this position at the beginning of the week.”
From a journalistic point of view it was terribly difficult. It was either That McIlroy moment or outright disaster. I couldn't exactly fake the words or play it safe. That Sunday at Augusta, McIlroy wasn't just playing for the Masters, he wasn't just playing to complete a career Grand Slam, and he wasn't just looking to end the wait for a fifth major that began in 2014. It was all of this at the same time and therefore so important.
McIlroy's reaction to victory is an easier guide than his majestic approach to the first playoff hole. Knocking on the grass, head in hands, tears in eyes. One of the many incredible things about McIlroy is how recognizable he has remained despite his superstar status. It doesn't take a seasoned golfer to appreciate the magnitude of what's happening and the pain McIlroy faced along the way.
McIlroy could very well win a few more Masters tournaments. He will probably win more majors. Nothing compares to this.
