It’s a Wednesday morning back in May, the summer struggling to break through in Surrey, and Rory McIlroy is due in the BMW PGA Championship press tent for his pre-tournament press conference.
The gathered scribes are, untypically, somewhat concerned; McIlroy has just announced the abrupt termination of his engagement to tennis star Caroline Wozniacki. The wedding invitations had gone out, so there are raised eyebrows and rolled eyes a plenty.
We’re also concerned about Rory’s form. He’s been better in 2014, but still not won anything. In the year and a half since he signed a multi-million dollar contract with Nike, the cupboard is largely bare.
He’s also developed a habit of starting tournaments with rounds in the mid-60s but following with what are being increasingly referred to as “Freaky Fridays”, when he shoots in the high 70s.
The scribes are mostly worried because Rory is our story. We hope he’s the man to continue golf’s modern boom as the man who started it, Tiger Woods, starts to fade. Unlike Woods, Rory is consistently personable, has a great relationship with the media, unanimously popular with fans, the perfect young superstar for golf.
We’ve got a story on this day the break-up but the concern of how it affects Rory long-term is genuine. Some of us are even wondering whether he’s going to show up.
It’s odd to recall that morning now, seven months on. Up until then, very little had gone right for Roryafter it, almost nothing went wrong. He’s been the player of the year without question. And he’s still that personable, popular guy.
First of all, of course he showed up for that press conference. He spoke freely, honestly, and even joined in the laugh when one cheeky scribe suggested Wentworth, a course he was supposed to detest, was the perfect place to get over the heartache.
I’m not fond of Rory-Tiger comparisons (different eras, really, even though they’re now playing at the same time) but here’s one you can have that is absolutely relevant; Tiger would NEVER have turned up for that press conference.
Four days later, McIlroy was cradling the large lump of shiny metal that passes for the modern PGA Championship trophy, having engaged a gear on the final day that simply overwhelmed the field. From that moment, all murmurs about the Nike gear ended forever.
Murmurings about the broken engagement ended after he had a typical lads’ holiday in Ibiza with his mates, which blew away any remaining cobwebs for what was a fabulous second half of the season.
He returned to Europe for the Scottish Open, where he had the last of his Freaky Fridays, and perfectly prepped for the Open, simply blew away the field at Hoylake for the Claret Jug, as T2G had recklessly predicted back in January.
The image of the year, for my money, was Rory coming off the 18th green at Hoylake to be greeted by his tearful mum Rosie. Dad Gerry is a popular presence at most of his son’s events, but this had been the first time his mum had been at a major win, and it had to be the most memorable of all.
The McIlroys are the antithesis of the pushy parents we see so often at golf events. Their presence since his amateur days has been wholly supportive and positive, and they’re entirely responsible for Rory’s admirable attitude both off and on the course.
Almost bursting with confidence, Rory won the WGC at Bridgestone and then we had the best major of the year in years, probably at the PGA at Valhalla.
The final nine holes, in gathering gloom, were the greatest golfing theatre. Rory, in front, being assaulted by Phil Mickelson and Rory Fowler chasing him down and passing him at one point.
He played two shots for the ages in that run, the three-wood from the fairway at the 10th to within seven feet for the eagle that turned the momentum, and then the shot out of the fairway bunker at the 17th to produce a birdie and close the door on his rivals.
We know that Rory’s a great player and has been magnificent in 2014 whether as great as Tiger in 2000 is really impossible to say but what’s best in my mind is the type of man he is.
The sort of man who backs his national Open, in the doldrums without a sponsor. Who gives £1 million to a cancer care centre. Who tries to be honest and candid, and friendly, with the press, no matter what number’s on his card.
Who signs for the kids whenever he can. Who winks at girls in the crowd. Who plays with a dog on the tee during a multi-million pound tournament.
Hopefully, as he goes on, he doesn’t change. Rory is everyone’s Player of the Year.