It's 'finally' his time.
- Nick O'Hern, PGA Tour Pro
- May 1
- 4 min read
What… a… Masters! It’s been a few weeks and I’m still thinking about it.
How good is live sport. You cannot replicate the unknown of what’s going to happen the final 9 holes on a Sunday. It’s reality TV at its finest, and what a ride we were taken on at Augusta National this year.
Rory McIlroy stood on the 10th tee with a 4-shot lead, and after finding the fairway (given what happened to his tee shot there in 2011 leading to his capitulation and an 80), I thought, ‘okay he’s good, it’s his time’. A birdie simply reinforced this. Then, when he avoided the pond on 11 by six inches, how could this possibly be taken away? Yes, he made bogey but hey, it’s a tough hole. A sensible tee shot on 12 led to par. He’s as good as home.
After playing the par five 13th as a 3-shotter (okay, fair enough, it’s a new disciplined Rory), he had 76 yards remaining, and half of Georgia left of the pin.
Then it happened.
He let everyone back in the tournament when he blocked his approach into Rae’s Creek.
Nooooooo!!
The only conclusion I can come to is that he tried to make a 4 rather than 5, as he should have done, given he was playing it as a 3-shot hole. If you want to make 4 hit a frickin’ driver off the tee!
Okay, Nick let’s breathe.
The resulting double bogey 7 was followed by bogey on 14, and suddenly he was trailing Justin Rose, who had just birdied 16, by one. Could this really be happening… again?
Don’t think about Pinehurst, don’t think about Pinehurst, don’t think…
The beauty of watching Rory though are the periods of pure genius between the moments of madness, and who knows when either will appear. On 15 his high, drawing 7-iron from 208 yards across the pond to 6 feet will forever be etched in everyone’s memory. It might have been the greatest shot ever hit on a Sunday at the Masters had he made the eagle putt. Instead, a tap-in birdie drew him level with Rose.
Augusta went back in time on the 16th with the same hole location from 50 years prior when Jack Nicklaus holed a 40-foot bomb on his way to victory. Rory played the hole beautifully for an easy par. Then came another moment of sublimeness when a towering 8-iron into the Georgian sky on 17 nestled 3 feet from the pin. The birdie gave him a one stroke advantage heading to the last, and after finding the fairway, all he had left was gap wedge.
Surely, it’s over… please?!
Unfortunately, the switch from genius to ordinary had been flicked once more, his approach finding sand to the right. A decent bunker shot meant 6 feet for the win and all that went with it… a green jacket, the career grand slam, and one ginormous question mark that had hung around for 14 years. His putt never touched the hole.
Credit for how he regrouped for the playoff must be given to his caddy Harry Diamond who said, “Hey, you would have taken a playoff at the start of the week right?” Back to 18 he and Rose went, where after another smoked drive, Rory had the same yardage left as in regulation, but this time stuffed it to 4 feet. Rose hit a great drive and shot in too, but didn’t get the benefit of the slope halfway up the green. His 16-foot birdie putt slid by and so the stage was left to the Northern Irishman once more. The tension was palpable as the patrons stood motionless, silent, the gravity of the moment hanging heavy.
The Masters is quite possibly the greatest sporting event in the world.
Why? It’s hard to pinpoint. There’s the pristine golf course, its volatile second nine that has produced both monumental collapses and victories, the exquisite television coverage, the Augusta members with their ‘unique’ policies such as no running, no phones. The no-phone rule may be their best of all. Everyone on property is totally engaged and present because there is no other option. They’re watching intently, instead of holding their phones up trying to capture it on a screen. Large scoreboards are relied on for updates on what’s happening elsewhere on the property. The roars (and cries) when the numbers change are priceless. Add this all up and it’s an emotional dramatic spectacle like no other.
My lasting memory will be of Rory holing the winning putt and the moments after. As it dropped, so did he, collapsing down onto the green, his face buried in his hands. With shoulders shaking uncontrollably, and tears streaming from his face, you could almost see the waves of relief dissipate from his body. The walk back to the clubhouse was as good as it gets. Nantz, a master of the spoken (and unspoken) word, let it breathe, saying nothing, allowing Rory’s emotions tell the story.
He wasn’t playing for money. He was playing for legacy, history, and above all, a green jacket.
It was finally his time.
Cheers,
Nick
