As Rory McIlroy, dejected and stunned, walked away from the players’ parking lot at Pinehurst after the bitterest defeat of his career, I remembered something Adam Scott had said a few years ago while discussing his golf’s worst nightmare.
“I think it probably hurts me more now than it did then,” the Australian said. We were talking about times 10 years earlier when he lost a four-shot lead with four to play at the 2012 Open.
Scott had gone 45 majors without a win before this collapse and he recovered to win the following year’s Masters. But The Open was the title he always coveted more than any other.
“I remember feeling numb after that,” he admitted. “But it’s really disgusting now that I don’t have a Claret Jug anymore. I messed it up.
Even though he has four major victories, McIlroy craves another success more than is probably good for his health. It is certain that the desire to cross the finish line clouded his mind and the match during the final stretch of the US Open on Sunday.
It was his 37th attempt to increase his total. The only man, after Tiger Woods and Jack Nicklaus, to win four majors by the age of 25, had it firmly within his grasp.
Here he is in the dusty, sweltering heat of North Carolina, on an iconic course at the climax of a classic U.S. Open. Thirty-five years old, prolific winner at all other levels, but marked.
A decade of heartbreak, of demons built through so many near misses, from St Andrews to Augusta, to Carnoustie, to Los Angeles, were surely about to be banished.
But the demonic forces were too great. Merger.
“He should have gone to the microphone and just cried”
The green at the short 15th missed, and a par putt at the 16th from 30 inches missed. Successive bogeys leaving the door ajar to a ragged but indomitable Bryson DeChambeau.
And once McIlroy slipped again by less than four feet at the last, the charismatic American knocked that gate off its hinges with one of the greatest highs and lows on the sand the game has ever seen.
It was an extraordinary, titanic and heartbreaking sport, but that will be of no consolation to the despairing McIlroy.
In boxing you can be knocked out, rugby players are routinely beaten, footballers are slammed and tennis stars are forced to serve, crush, sprint and slide all night.
Golf is a walk, hell, you can smoke between shots if you want. But there is no sport like it for inflicting the most savage psychological blows.
There is no one to blame but yourself when things go wrong. You made the mistakes, no one else. It’s yours.
And when those calamitous moments come at the same time as some of the best golf of your life – a game that has put you on the brink of such elusive glory and you throw it away, there is nowhere to hide.
Even if, like McIlroy did, you left the stage before the champion received his trophy. The Northern Irishman was in the air, heading for his home in Florida, before the triumphant DeChambeau finished his press conference.
The champion spoke and spoke and spoke, as he should. But a shattered McIlroy did not speak to waiting reporters as Scott had done following his dismal Lytham collapse which saw Ernie Els emerge victorious.
Indeed, McIlroy also failed to emulate Jean van de Velde who spoke after winning seven in the final at Carnoustie in 1999, when six would have given him the Claret Jug.
Greg Norman spoke after coughing up a six-shot lead to Sir Nick Faldo at the 1996 Masters and Dustin Johnson gave a quote after three-putting last to lose the 2015 US Open at Chambers Bay.
“He should have gone to the microphone and just cried,” one golf veteran told me. “Do it, put it out there. Everyone would have just had sympathy.
Either way, we have sympathy – only the coldest of hearts couldn’t feel for this guy. McIlroy was crushed.
It was the same for Colin Montgomerie, who stormed past a New York State Trooper after making a double bogey in the final at the 2006 US Open. Par would have finally given the Scot a major success and for him, there was never another chance.
And how the hell does McIlroy recover? The calamitous climax of his final round proved that no matter how hard he plays, he is mentally vulnerable in the most important moments.
There is no shame in that. He puts himself to the test, tests himself in the most difficult golfing environments. He does it time and time again and he’s good enough to fight repeatedly.
It was his sixth consecutive top 10 at the US Open and he is now the only man to finish solo runner-up two years in a row.
It takes courage to take the plunge, to fight but fail, to get up from the canvas and start again.
“He has raw ability, what about mental ability? »
But this defeat is so savage that it raises questions for the future. What will happen the next time he has a specialty within his reach? How does he banish such painful memories?
More pertinently, what does he do to change the scenario?
McIlroy has always been a one-man band on the course. He knows what is best and his best is often brilliant.
He loves hitting the fairways with his childhood pal from Belfast, Harry Diamond, by his side.
He pinches himself at such a scenario – that they have together won so many trophies – the Ryder Cups, the Players, the World Golf Championships and season-long titles on both sides of the pond.
Many argue that he should have a gnarly, experienced fundraiser on his side, someone who simply would not allow a collapse like the one we have witnessed here in North Carolina.
Scott had the great Steve Williams alongside him at Lytham. He’s not the caddy missing the kind of crucial tiddlers that sealed McIlroy’s fate at Pinehurst.
But they play a key role and Williams was an invaluable asset the following April at Augusta when Scott became the first Australian to win the Masters.
No one knows if McIlroy would be better off with a different caddy, or a different mind, coach, or media person for that matter. Not even him.
But these questions must surely be on the agenda as he seeks a recovery plan. Something has to change dramatically because you can’t keep doing the same things and expect a different result. Madness.
DeChambeau said McIlroy “will win a lot more majors,” just as Woods said in April that it was only a matter of time before the Ulsterman completes his career Grand Slam by winning the Masters.
Sure, he has the raw ability, but what about the mental ability?
What Pinehurst emphasized is that there is absolutely no guarantee he will get the number five major. And the pain that comes from it will endure – just ask Adam Scott.
Scott used his defeat at Lytham to fuel a fire that brought glory to the Masters. If only for McIlroy. It won’t be that simple.
But he has to get back on his horse. And try to make sure it doesn’t kick him in the teeth. Again.