PINEHURST, NORTH CAROLINA | By mid-morning Monday, sprinklers could be seen showering the thirsty grass at Pinehurst No. 2, 18-wheelers were trying to navigate the tiny traffic circle leading into the resort to help with the deconstruction of the U.S. Open buildout and life was returning to normal at the tiny village.
While Bryson DeChambeau was still celebrating his rousing victory, Rory McIlroy’s devastating failure lingered like the smoke from a distant fire.
Before DeChambeau’s champion’s press conference had concluded early Sunday evening, McIlroy was airborne back to his south Florida home where the change of scenery couldn’t change the reality of what McIlroy had lost over the final four holes of a U.S. Open that was as good as they get.
The most piercing image may have been the television shot of McIlroy in the scoring room, moments after missing the 4-foot putt on the 18th green that could have put him in a playoff. McIlroy stood there stone-faced, watching DeChambeau hit the shot of his life from a fairway bunker and then holing the winning 4-foot putt.
It was like a man watching his own execution.
A couple of minutes later, McIlroy was driving away by himself in his courtesy car. No handshake for DeChambeau. No comments to the media. And, nowhere to hide from himself.
By late Monday, McIlroy had posted a note on social media, explaining his heartbreak, calling Sunday perhaps the hardest day in his professional career, congratulating DeChambeau and announcing his withdrawal from the Travelers Championship this week.
It was both damage control and a glimpse into his personal torment that a dash-away flight Sunday evening could not outrun.
Part of what defines major championships are the losses they produce. Arnold Palmer squandered a seven-shot over the final nine holes to lose the 1966 U.S. Open to Billy Casper.
McIlroy is the game’s most popular player, and the emotional attachment fans have to him is rare. If another player had lost the U.S. Open the way McIlroy did, the reaction would have been different because no one else evokes the goodwill that McIlroy does.
Jordan Spieth had a five-stroke lead with nine holes to play in the 2016 Masters and lost to Danny Willett.
Dustin Johnson three-putted the 72nd green to lose the 2015 U.S. Open by one stroke to Spieth.
What happened Sunday at Pinehurst felt a little like what occurred in 1996 when Greg Norman lost a Masters that he seemed destined to win to Nick Faldo, whose final-round brilliance was largely overshadowed by Norman’s collapse.
The world saw Norman differently then than it does today, and that was the day when it became clear that he was never going to win a green jacket. It felt like a joyless Sunday.
This was different because of the mutual embrace between DeChambeau and the galleries, but he’s not McIlroy.
McIlroy is the game’s most popular player, and the emotional attachment fans have to him is rare. If another player had lost the U.S. Open the way McIlroy did, the reaction would have been different because no one else evokes the goodwill that McIlroy does.
As much as what happened gutted McIlroy, the ache was shared by thousands, maybe millions.
Even DeChambeau sounded as if he felt for the man whom he beat.
“I’m sure it will fuel Rory’s fire even more,” DeChambeau said.
It’s not fuel that McIlroy needs. It’s a major-championship trophy.
“The one word I would describe my career as is resilient,” McIlroy wrote. “I’ve shown my resilience over and over again in the last 17 years and I will again.”
This moment will test that resilience, but this shouldn’t be the career crusher than some think it will be. McIlroy can’t let it be.
A decade later, McIlroy is still stuck on four majors. and some see him like musicians whose best work is their early work. They continue to make music, much of it very good, but the sense is it’s not quite as good as before.
For all of his accomplishments – four major championships among his 26 PGA Tour wins, nine others on the DP World Tour and three FedEx Cups – McIlroy is now being measured against himself and that’s a difficult comparison.
When he won the 2014 PGA Championship, McIlroy claimed his fourth major title at only 25 years of age. He seemed destined to win at least that many more and perhaps reach double digits.
A decade later, McIlroy is still stuck on four majors. and some see him like musicians whose best work is their early work. They continue to make music, much of it very good, but the sense is it’s not quite as good as before.
That’s a tough grading scale since McIlroy has won 17 PGA Tour events and five more on the DP World Tour since his last major. The reason why losing at Pinehurst cut so deeply is because everyone knew what this one would have meant.
McIlroy may have needed it as much as he wanted it.
He doesn’t seem like someone who can easily let go of what happened Sunday – the 2½-foot miss on the 16th green and the 4-footer that died away on the 18th green – but it seems overly dramatic to suggest he won’t be able to get past this.
It will leave a scar like others have, but McIlroy is also smart enough to understand that he was right there. He birdied four holes in a five-hole mid-round stretch to turn a deficit into a two-stroke lead.
The short miss at 16 was gasp-inducing and felt like a product of the moment.
The miss on 18 was easier to accept because it was a more difficult putt, made more challenging by what happened two holes earlier.
One of these years, DeChambeau might have a statue like 1999 Open winner Payne Stewart’s at Pinehurst or a plaque in the fairway bunker recognizing the spot of one of the great shots in U.S. Open history. Either way, it will remind people of what happened Sunday at the U.S. Open.
We expect the great ones to make those putts because that’s what they do.
But not always.
Not this time.
One of these years, DeChambeau might have a statue like 1999 Open winner Payne Stewart’s at Pinehurst or a plaque in the fairway bunker recognizing the spot of one of the great shots in U.S. Open history. Either way, it will remind people of what happened Sunday at the U.S. Open.
Both the pain and the glory.