The Rory McIIroy experience

It's exciting, but exhausting.

Rory McIIroy is no Tiger Woods.

Never was.

Never will be.

And his Rory-go-round victory in this year’s Masters only proves it.

Understand. We are not discussing who is the better golfer. Someone else can provide an analysis of their respective 6-iron trajectories.

They’re champions. Members of golf’s most exclusive club. Grand slammers who have won each of the four top tournaments in the game over the course of their careers.

You can run the numbers and say that Tiger has the wins.

Fair enough.

But right now McIIroy is the best-known, most popular, most successful man in global golf. Nobody else who is currently playing has a grand slam. That ain’t nothing’.

Now, Tiger was — and I think at this point we can start referring to his career in the past tense — indomitable. He was type-A, an intense and intimidating competitor. There was a Michael Jordan, try-and-beat-me vibe.

Woods won by getting ahead on the first three days of majors and then grinding the opposition into a fine paste on the last day. Famously, 14 of his 15 major wins came when he had the lead. He simply hit shot after shot in the final, never giving anyone any airspace.

That would not be Rory. McIIroy is dominatable. His stride turns Tigger bouncy when things are going well. He makes funny faces, bends down over his shoes when distressed and — inevitably it seems — at some point ends up standing forlornly on the tee, waving an arm to the gallery and shouting, “FORE RIGHT.”

He is a thrilling player — the greatest driver in the game — but he’s experienced more public heartbreak than Taylor Swift. (Golf-wise, that is. McIIroy’s marital machinations are a topic for another day.)

Things always seem to be going well when suddenly there’s a wild drive or fozzled chip or five-footer that just slides by the hole.

And, of course, for Rory there is the Beetlejuice of haunted memories — the 10th at the Masters. (See above clip.)

The year was 2011, he was leading the Masters on the last day and he stepped to the 10th tee and — inadvertently — created the Rory McIIroy Experience.

No need to go blow by blow. He snapped the drive way to the left and the next time TV cameras found him he seemed to be playing the ball from between two cabins. There was more swinging, a tree bark ricochet and . . . you get the idea.

Complete meltdown. Made seven. Lost the Masters.

And, to add to the crushing pressure, in the ongoing years it became clear that, having won the U.S. Open, the British Open and the PGA, he only needed the Masters to complete a career Grand Slam, which only five players had accomplished in the history of golf.

The moment — the time Rory imploded — became a thing. Comes up every year at the Masters. He must wonder how long it will be during Masters week before someone brings it up — again.

Here’s how he responded to the questions this year:

“Once you go through that, once you go through those heartbreaks, as I call them, or disappointments, you get to a place where you remember how it feels and you wake up the next day and you're like, yeah, life goes on, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be. The last few years I've had chances to win some of the biggest golf tournaments in the world, and it hasn't quite happened. But life moves on. You dust yourself off and you go again.”

But let’s don’t pretend that these golfers are such seasoned professionals that they just shrug off a bad shot, even if it costs them the tournament.

More likely, it is seared into their memory.

In 1970, in the British Open, Doug Sanders had a three-foot putt to the win the British Open. He remembers getting distracted, then rushing the putt and somehow missing and losing the trophy.

Sanders only had to hear about that for the rest of his life.

So tough luck for Rory, but it seems like there’s more to it.

If you’re a golfer, you’ve been there. Playing along and the driver goes rogue, sending one into the underbrush. You find it, carefully line up a chip out, but hit a tree limb and the ball doesn’t go anywhere. And then you feel like everybody’s waiting on you, so you rush up, grab a club and cold-top your next shot.

Take away the 320-yard drives and the soft touch around the green, and there are times when Rory is the rest of us.

So I, for one, developed a bit of a man-crush on McIIroy. Sometimes, when watching a tape-delay video, I skip the other golfers and just watch his shots. Watching, cringing, waiting for that moment.

Thursday I literally just turned on the TV on the first day of the Masters to see McIIroy hit a little tiny chip onto a gym-floor-slick 15th green and then watch the ball slowly, inexorably, roll over the green, down the slope and into the water.

To which I had two reactions:

1. Dammit Rory!

2. That’s exactly what I would have done.

Spoiler alert. McIIroy won the Masters this year.

It was such a Rory classic, it was almost scripted. He buried himself in the sand with the first swing of the day. He bogied away a third round lead. At the 13th he was 82 yards away from the green. He could have picked up the ball and thrown it on the green from there.

He hit it in the water.

And then he rallied and took a one-shot lead to the 18th green. He had five feet left to won the tournament.

Missed it.

Off to a playoff. Again, gets on the green with five feet to win it.

Makes it.

And he fell to his knees, sobbing with emotion.

As one does.

Contact C.W. Nevius at cwnevius@gmail.com. X or threads: @cwnevius