McIlroy's Major Moments

The 18th hole of the Old Course at St Andrews is one of the most famous finishing stretches in all of golf.

On a warm day in mid-July crowds of people lined the fairway which paves the way back into the ancient town, each person jostling and straining to catch a glimpse of Rory McIlroy completing his final round of The 150th Open Championship.

I was one of them, stood just to the right of the iconic Swilken Bridge, having followed the Irishman for the entirety of his afternoon walk across the sunbaked Scottish links.

Dejection and deflation hung palpably in the air as fans looked at each other, shellshocked, when a closing par let the reality sink in - Rory McIlroy would not be the Champion Golfer of the Year.

It was an unfathomable outcome after what had felt written in the stars.

McIlroy told the press that each morning, gazing out of his hotel window, he tried to envision his name atop the distinctive yellow leaderboard. Encouragingly, he had started the day tied for the lead with fellow European, Viktor Hovland, four shots clear of the chasing pack. At 16-under-par, it seemed inevitable that the winner would come from this final grouping and throughout the signs had been promising. Plenty of greens in regulation, no card-wrecking mistakes, but no putts dropping either.

On each tee box and green, we willed McIlroy to victory, but audible roars up ahead confirmed that Cameron Smith, the laid back Australian with the silky smooth putting stroke, was on an unprecedented tear and would ultimately claim the claret jug.

It was an agonisingly close call in a landmark tournament that crushed Rory and all those who rooted for him.

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Fast forward from 2022 to 2024 and McIlroy was standing on the 18th tee of Pinehurst No.2.

This time I was watching on television, thousands of miles away on the opposite side of the Atlantic and urging Rory, as ever, to get over the major finishing line.

The big-hitting American, Bryson DeChambeau, was playing erratically behind him but inching ever closer to the lead and entertaining thousands of spectators along the way.

Between clasped fingers, I watched Rory pull his drive into the scrub and, two shots later, face a short downhill slider on a lightening quick green. The 4 feet of turf and left-to-right break held no prisoners as McIlroy’s putt slipped slowly by, cementing his third gut-wrenching bogey in the final four holes.

Minutes later behind-the-scenes footage from inside the scoring hut depicted Rory standing beneath a TV monitor, watching Bryson pull off a miraculous bunker shot and clinch the US Open.

On the 10th anniversary of Rory’s last major success, I sat - numb and dumfounded - that yet another had got away.

And that night I remember, for the first time, truly doubting whether we would ever see the best golfer since Tiger Woods add to his stubbornly fixed major tally.

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As summer turned to autumn and winter turned to spring, the golfing calendar ticked on and 2025 dawned two early PGA Tour triumphs at Pebble Beach and TPC Sawgrass. Trophies and success spawned tentative seeds of hope, and the familiar thought returned that maybe - just maybe - this would be the year.

Within weeks my Instagram feed was filled with Augusta National in full bloom - vibrant pink azaleas, towering Georgia pine trees, and striped green and white umbrellas. The club's flawless aesthetic was animated by well-established musings of whether or not McIlroy would complete the elusive career Grand Slam. A chance, 11 years in the making, to create history and join Gene Sarazen, Ben Hogan, Gary Player, Jack Nicklaus, and Tiger Woods in winning all four major championships.

A pair of back-to-back 66s, after an opening 72, gave him a two-shot lead heading into the final day and dreams were rekindled that the world’s most coveted green jacket could be in McIlroy’s closet by sunset.

I won’t trace the ebbs and flows of that tumultuous final day - if you’ve read this far, you likely watched it unfold in real time, shredding your nerves at the same rate as mine.

The 73 on the scorecard and final total of 11-under-par certainly don’t do justice to the soaring highs and depthless lows felt over the course of that closing round, the pictures and feelings, sounds and moments, forever seared in my mind's eye and memory.

Throughout, I shifted between Sky Golf’s coverage and my live Twitter feed - breathless posts from Rory shot tracking accounts somehow more bearable in the tensest situations. Despite having no agency or influence on the result, I lived and died by every shot, and boy were there swings from elation and excitement to utter horror and anguish.

But as soon as that last putt dropped on the 18th green in the golden afternoon light, each of the 11 years of hoping and willing, supporting and encouraging, despairing and lamenting, peeled away in a final scene that evoked complete happiness and unbridled relief.

Rory sunk to his knees and the fanbase sunk to theirs as the outcome we’d all been yearning for - for more than a decade - finally came to fruition.

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By becoming only the sixth male player to complete the career Grand Slam, McIlroy entered the upper echelons of golfing stardom.

And a bit of that rare stardust fell on us all.

Photo Credit: GETTY IMAGES

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