Rory McIlroy of Northern Ireland looks on from the 14th green during the first round of the 125th U.S. Open at Oakmont Country Club.
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OAKMONT, Pa — Rory McIlroy’s media availability, in the parlance of big-time sports, has taken on all the intrigue of a papal conclave. In the latter process, the world waits anxiously as the College of Cardinals elects a new pope; in the former, a couple dozen sweaty reporters in logo’ed golf shirts and sensible walking shoes wait anxiously to see if the reigning Masters champion, world No. 2 and undisputed best chitchatter in golf will spill a few quotes after his round.
That’s a striking development, because among McIlroy’s embarrassment of talents is his gift for gabbing, with great insight and generosity. In 2024 alone, McIlroy took the podium at 97 tournament press conferences, including a minimum of four times at each of the four majors, according to an analysis of transcripts archived by ASAP Sports and Tee Scripts. McIlroy’s career tournament presser tally? A whopping 1,516, dating to the 2007 Open Championship, which he played in (and spoke at) as a baby-faced 18-year-old amateur.
McIlroy’s media reticence began at the PGA Championship last month, when he declined to chat after each of his four rounds, later explaining that he was irritated that news of his failed driver test had “leaked” before the tournament. “I didn’t want to get up there and say something that I regretted,” he said.
In McIlroy’s next start, the RBC Canadian Open in Toronto, he spoke before the tournament and after each of his first two rounds. When asked in his pre-tournament scrum how much responsibility he feels players shoulder to make themselves available to the media, McIlroy said he understood the importance and “benefit” of talking to the press but until the organizations that run tournaments make it mandatory for players to fill notebooks, “you’re going to have guys skip from time to time, and that’s well within our rights.”
On a steamy Thursday afternoon at Oakmont Country Club, the game of will-he-or-won’t-he was fully on. McIlroy had just signed for an opening four-over 74 at the 125th U.S. Open, a Jekyll-and-Hyde round in which he played his first nine holes (Oakmont’s easier back nine) in a bogey-free two under before needing 41 swipes (six over) to play his second nine.
Over those latter nine holes, McIlroy had been thoroughly Oakmonted: on the par-5 4th, he needed three swings to extract his ball from the suffocating right rough. On the par-3 6th, he pushed a 4-footer on the slick surface, then, at the par-4 7th, yanked a 6-footer. On the par-3 8th, more messiness: After flaring his tee shot into the right rough, McIlroy undercut his ensuing chip and was still short of the green. Another chip and two putts later, and McIlroy had his first double of the championship.
After a smashed drive at 9 that left him 152 yards to his target, McIlroy hit another loose iron, coming up short and right of the green. When he arrived at his ball, McIlroy waited more than 5 minutes to play his third shot (his partner Justin Rose was chewing clock on his way to double-bogey 6 and a 77). McIlroy spent less of that time reading his line than he did gazing toward the back of the expansive 9th green, which is used as a practice area. Collin Morikawa was getting dialed. Corey Conners, too. In the middle of the crowd of players, caddies and coaches — rapping 20-footers — was the player McIlroy and the rest of his peers are chasing: Scottie Scheffler. The world No. 1 was clad in muted tones, but still, McIlroy couldn’t have missed him.
Several minutes later, McIlroy was signing his card in the scoring cabin just beyond the 9th green. The walkway that separates that hut from the slate-roofed clubhouse was teeming with life: players; caddies; players’ wives; Mark Steinberg in a Sun Day Red polo; new LIV CEO Scott O’Neil holding court; and, yes, a pack of ink-stained wretches awaiting McIlroy. After several more minutes, McIlroy emerged from scoring with his manager, Sean O’Flaherty. They strolled past McIlroy’s would-be inquisitors, up a short flight of stairs and disappeared into the clubhouse.
Would McIlroy return? The media scrum waited a few minutes. Then a few minutes more. Finally, word surfaced, by way of a USGA media official, that McIlroy would not be talking.
On Tuesday, when McIlroy did talk, he was asked how he has managed the demands on his time in the wake of his historic Masters win.
“Basically saying no to every request that comes in, trying to get home as much as possible, and trying to do the things that I enjoy,” he said. “That was one of my goals for this year was to have more fun, and that’s what I’m trying to do.”
His Thursday looked fun for nine holes. Then not so much.
As GOLF.com’s executive editor, Bastable is responsible for the editorial direction and voice of one of the game’s most respected and highly trafficked news and service sites. He wears many hats — editing, writing, ideating, developing, daydreaming of one day breaking 80 — and feels privileged to work with such an insanely talented and hardworking group of writers, editors and producers. Before grabbing the reins at GOLF.com, he was the features editor at GOLF Magazine. A graduate of the University of Richmond and the Columbia School of Journalism, he lives in New Jersey with his wife and foursome of kids.
