ORLANDO, FLORIDA | The temperature was nudging 90 degrees Thursday afternoon, warm even by central Florida standards this time of year, and what felt like a summer breeze was blowing across Bay Hill as the Arnold Palmer Invitational began its march toward Sunday afternoon.

By lunchtime, Rory McIlroy had already positioned himself atop the leaderboard, 18 holes closer to potentially winning the champion’s red cardigan for a second time.
It’s not a stretch to suggest that McIlroy is the closest thing the professional game has to Palmer these days, though Phil Mickelson’s fans would argue otherwise. McIlroy has the qualities Palmer admired – he’s genuine, looks people in the eye and has a magnetism as big as his game.
It’s telling that McIlroy marks the Arnold Palmer Invitational in ink, not pencil, when he’s planning out his playing schedule each year after years of taking the week off, not fully realizing what he was missing until he spent time with Palmer here.
This is the fourth API played since the man himself passed away. As real as the void is – it’s a bit like trying to replace the sun – Palmer’s presence still permeates the place. He’s gone but his spirit remains.
It’s evident when four grown women pose for a photograph in front of the statue of Palmer near the first tee, doing their best to strike the same twisted finish pose as the bronzed man. Like tourists waiting for elevators to the top of the Empire State building, fans line up at busy times to pose with the Palmer statue.
When he was here, Palmer didn’t hide behind a velvet rope or in a private room. He ate in the same grill room as everyone else and if someone stopped and asked for a photograph, an autograph or just a moment, he obliged.
It’s there in the corner of the practice tee where Palmer’s golf bag and an umbrella – white, red, yellow and green – stands as a reminder of why all of this is here.
It’s there in the pink shirts that seem more prominent at Bay Hill than other places. Maybe it’s real. Maybe it’s imagined. Regardless, no one could wear a pink shirt like Palmer and there is a rack filled with them in the Bay Hill pro shop. They never go out of style.
After Palmer’s death, there were concerns about whether the tournament he cultivated for years might suffer. So far, his daughter Amy, his grandson Sam Saunders and others have worked to maintain the glow. It has 13 of the top 25 players in the world ranking this week – a strong field that would have been stronger had eight-time winner Tiger Woods played – and because it’s Arnie’s event, the winner gets a three-year PGA Tour exemption, one year longer than most tour events.

This week, the U.S. Postal Service unveiled the new Arnold Palmer stamp, giving the man who seemingly had everything something he didn’t have. In the same way golfers clamored for the five-pound British sterling notes featuring Jack Nicklaus a few years ago, the Palmer stamp likely created a new group of stamp collectors.
Even Florida’s governor, Ron DeSantis, got involved, declaring the Arnold Palmer – that delicious concoction of lemonade and iced tea – the official drink of the Florida governor’s mansion, ordering it to be served at all future executive functions there. DeSantis was going to make it the official state drink of Florida until he was reminded that orange juice already holds that honor.
There is nothing pretentious about Bay Hill. The golf course is long, hard and flat, dotted with water hazards the way most Florida courses are. It was Palmer’s baby, though, a place he doted on when he wasn’t playing in the afternoon shootout or holding court in the clubhouse.

When he was here, Palmer didn’t hide behind a velvet rope or in a private room. He ate in the same grill room as everyone else and if someone stopped and asked for a photograph, an autograph or just a moment, he obliged.
If he saw a guest with a hat on inside the clubhouse, it was Palmer who often approached the person, reminding them that hats are not to be worn inside. There are still brass plates on clubhouse doors reminding guests to mind their hat manners.
“There’s so many nice little traditions here,” McIlroy said after shooting 66 on Thursday, nodding to Palmer’s golf bag on the range. “Still having to take your hat off when you walk into the clubhouse, that’s something I really like.
“Eating breakfast this morning, (I) saw a couple of people who were asked to take their hat off as they walked in. I think it’s a really nice thing.”
It’s one of many nice things about this week at Bay Hill where Arnold Palmer lives on.