Augusta, Georgia. – a concoction of sweat bodies and long -term cameras was blocked in the upper left corner of Tribune N ° 15 at National Augusta While the 7 -foot eagle putt from Rory McILroy slipped under the cup. At this stage of the day, the Phone without Phone Masters tournament Customers did not know the sound of thousands of simultaneous groans. However, hearing and participating on it on several occasions did not become easier.
A Green jacket Stoped from his plastic tread seat in a frenzy.
“I can’t take it much more,” said the gentleman. He bordered the bees to the steep descendant staircase, his sons close behind, groping to button the coat that only a selected group can display on this property.
Until it happens, Mcilroy The pursuit of the great career slam and the end of his 11 -year -old drought of major championship felt more than if you took the most nauseous roller coaster on earth and increases its tenfold speed. Or you stuck in a mixer and turned it to the highest adjustment, shaking the table.
A double opening bogey, a water ball in Rae’s Creek with a hand in hand, the first qualifying series of sudden death in masters since 2017 – McILroy gave Augusta National The show he didn’t know he wanted. On -site customers are still not sure that this is what they would be registered. Sunday was a heart attack.
“My battle today was with myself. It was not with anyone else ”, Mcilroy said Sunday evening, a regular green jacket jostling on his shoulders. “You know, at the end, it was with Justin (Rose), but my battle today was with my mind and stayed in the present.
“I would like to say that I did a better job than me. It was a struggle, but I got it above the line. ”
It might have been an internal message of wars for McILroy, but the whole National Augusta felt him with him. They leaned with the capricious discs, jostled to see the escape routes defying gravity, and hoped – oh, they hoped – each time the face of putter was in contact with the golf ball, he would find a hole. Just this one, Rory.
Rotation by rotation, they held their breath.
Then, a final roar that could only mean one thing: a soft and soft relief.
In his master’s dossier in 1975 for Sports Illustrated, the Grand Dan Jenkins wrote: “There is an old saying that the real masters does not start before the nine of the back on Sunday.” It was 50 masters. It’s always true.
This new return of the 89th masters began with a semblance of something you can never trust in the place: comfort. It is almost always a mirage.
The n ° 10 crushed the dreams of the masters of McILroy 14 years ago as a naive man of 21 years. Sunday morning, McILroy opened his locker to a note from Angel Cabrera, the 2009 champion who played with McILroy that day.
Customers surrounded Rory McILroy all day. (Images Richard Heathcote / Getty)
The journey on n ° 10 was without demon. The Birdie Putt who followed to take a four -stroke advance? Electrization. The customers surrounded the 10th green and the 11th Fairway 30 deeply, looking through the trees and mixing aimlessly to find a gap where they could see something. Nothing. Amen Corner hides. Lest that they all knew it, the carpet was about to be torn off under the north of the Irishman.
Everything happened in a blur. A bogey on n ° 11 – a number that could have been much larger. A by at n ° 12. A 3 wood off the tee at n ° 13, McILroy playing safely with an advance of four strokes.
There is no tighter part of the property for customers than Amen Corner, tens of thousands of people in a hurry to watch the ball of McILroy fly in the air once, then twice. He stood with a corner in his hands 82 meters. If he was going to do everything, it was not going to be there, with all the Georgia on the left side of the green. RIGHT?
The Ballon of McILroy has plummeted in the stream. He folded the spine in half and threw his hands on his lap. There had been many triumphant answers from the boss at this time of the day. Here, in the last chapter of Amen Corner, the dressings have returned. They did not stop.
First of all, Mcilroy’s red 13 came out of the neighboring manual ranking and was replaced by a dark 11. He stopped, waiting for an additional moment before heading for the 14th tee, almost as if he knew he was coming. Rose suddenly passed her 10 for an 11.
Score equal.
No Masters champion has ever won the green jacket with four double bogeys. Is this the kind of story that McILroy was going to make?
Whenever it seemed that McILroy had launched the golf tournament for good, he followed it with a shot, a moment, even a rebound in his step which was addressed on the contrary. He seemed to be under cruise regulator until the emergency brakes strike. The fists of customers in the air were coupled with faces burned by the sun burned in the hands. More new red numbers have caused a sensation. McILroy threw another dart. Birdie-Par-Birdie. Triumph? No. Bogey fence. It was there. All this would come back to that. A sudden eliminatory series against his teammate from the Ryder Cup, Rose.
Harry Diamond, the shopping cart and the best friend of McILroy since the age of 7, watched his player as they were heading for the golf cart that would bring the pair to the 18th T-shirt.
“Well, my friend, we would have taken this on Monday morning,” he said.
The national public of Augusta jostled did not agree. The anxiety became unbearable, exhausting limits, but also the best masters in the modern era. Anyway, it had to end. McILroy needed to get – and everyone – out of his misery.
Browse the white and gilded doors of the Augusta National Club-Wow, on a winding staircase and through a picturesque but decadent dining room, and you will find yourself on a porch. It overlooks the giant oak, the iconic rows of green and white umbrellas, and in the distance, if you crash your neck just enough, n ° 18 green.
But today, this opinion was darken by a sea of anxious bodies. On the field, some offered to start a game of “phone” to communicate the game on the green.
On the porch, you can run 180 degrees and you are faced with a row of white windows. They lead to a 35 -inch television, the only modern technology within a radius of 100 yards. A strange combination of carriers of green jackets, restorative radiudiffusers and confused writers gathered to watch the playoffs. Patrick Reed plunged to order an Azalea cocktail. The new USGA president arose. Everyone was too nervous to say a word. No one did.
A sound of this strength cannot be late for a band. The whole National Augusta felt McILroy’s energy release after this 4 -foot sneaktened putt dropped. And by the appearance of him – collapse on his knees and convulse with sobs – he also felt it.
One of the last most chaotic cycles of recent memory ended with pure emotion, an appropriate release so that the sixth man ends the great career slam, and McILroy closed a story that he wondered if he would never escape.
“It was quite a relief. There was not much joy in this reaction. It was quite a relief,” said McILroy after the tour laughing. “And then, you know, joy came soon after. But it was – I came here for 17 years, and it was a decade and more emotion that came out of me there.”
We know, Rory. We know.
(Top Photo: Harry How / Getty Images)