“But no, I mean, when I look back on that day, just like I look back on some of my toughest moments in my career, I’ll learn a lot from it and I’ll hopefully put that to good use. It’s something that’s been a bit of a theme throughout my career. I’ve been able to take those tough moments and turn them into great things not very long after that.”
One answer, 436 words, all kinds of context. The exact location where he started to feel uncomfortable? That’s gold. That bit about being too aware of DeChambeau’s position? We may not have heard that if McIlroy was forced to explain everything at Pinehurst.
Instead, McIlroy ripped home that Sunday night on his own private jet. The pace at which he was airborn broke our brains. He withdrew from the Travelers Championship but took a planned trip to New York City for a few days. He walked the High Line, Manhattan’s famous west-side, elevated walkway, which is often littered with tourists. Only a few people recognized him. He made a few phone calls. He liked it.
Meanwhile, the dogs were out in the criticism world. People online and in the press room were annoyed McIlroy didn’t answer questions that night. They were annoyed he didn’t stay to congratulate DeChambeau. They made a big deal of McIlroy’s courtesy vehicle kicking up a couple stones as he departed. They called for him to dump his caddie and were disappointed he pulled out of an event he would have played had he finished, say, T8. His sharpest detractors pointed out that the champ in Pinehurst, Bryson DeChambeau, dealt with the frustrations of a solo second-place finish at Valhalla’s PGA Championship in May, and he handled it with charm. He met Xander Schauffele with a congratulatory handshake and then answered 13 different questions about it, all confident and beaming.
But these two men and those two situations are so different they barely merit comparison. DeChambeau finished second after a raucous 64. McIlroy finished second by missing the putts that all winners make. DeChambeau won a major four years ago. McIlroy’s last came 10 years ago. DeChambeau made off with a reported $125 million contract from LIV Golf, but largely disappeared from the public golf conscience — sitting in front of the press has been a treat for him this year. McIlroy never entertained the heaps of money that severed the professional game and instead has always been sitting in front of the press, for the good times and bad.
He sat for a press conference the day after the PGA Tour made him to be a “sacrificial lamb.” He sat for questions at Los Angeles Country Club, after finishing second at the ’23 U.S. Open, promising he “would go through 100 Sundays like this to get my hands on another major championship.” He stood stoic for 13 questions after a gut-wrenching loss at St. Andrews in 2022, only to slink off teary-eyed into the arms of his wife. He did an on-course interview after a crumbling Sunday 80 at the Masters in 2011. It turns out, McIlroy has spoken a helluva lot more than most other tour pros — nearly 50 times in official press scrums this season alone — so in one of the toughest moments of his golfing career, he wanted to get away.
He doesn’t regret it.
“No offense, you guys were the least of my worries at that point,” McIlroy said Wednesday. He chuckled because it was true. Incidentally, McIlroy’s sunken face while watching DeChambeau finish, from within the scoring room at Pinehurst, is an image that says it all anyway.
If he finds himself in a similar position next week, across the country at The Open Championship at Troon, McIlroy said his approach won’t be too different. His pre-shot routine got a bit long in North Carolina — he’d like to keep that more consistent. He’d like to stay in his “own little world” a bit better down the stretch, not letting the stakes consume his mind. He thinks he got a bit impatient on the 16th hole, and will rue the shortie he missed there much more than the one on 18. The latter was trickier, a fact numerous pros have confirmed in the days and weeks since. He’ll remember the visual, standing on the 18th green, seeing DeChambeau yank his drive left, when for just a second he thought his competition might make bogey.
What does that tell us? That McIlroy’s mind was all over the place. And that it wasn’t getting settled quickly. An uncomfortable truth for unsatisfied fans and media members about these bits of hindsight is they don’t arrive immediately. They take time.
