He had to give us one late scare. That drive on 18, the one that he stood over with a two-shot lead to win the Masters, it only needed to be straight. In the bunker would have been fine. A bit left of it wouldn’t have been a disaster, even. The one thing he couldn’t do with it was spray it right, into the trees. So he sprayed it right, into the trees.
But then, he wouldn’t be Rory McIlroy without some bit of drama. Old habits don’t disappear, you just learn to regulate them a little. McIlroy said in his press conference afterwards that the walk up to find his ball after that last tee shot was the most stressful part of the day. The fact that it wouldn’t have ranked in the top 10 most stressful parts of his final round a year ago tells its own story.
This is the way the gods used to do it. Jack Nicklaus doesn’t just hold the record for Major victories, he’s a mile clear in terms of runner-up finishes as well – 19, compared to the next best of 11, held by Phil Mickelson. He always said his approach was to hang around and let everybody else vomit up their lunch (okay, he’d say it nicer than that, but you get the picture). Sometimes they did and he’d snaffle a Major nobody else wanted. He was the best player but also the best hanger-in-there.
Same with Tiger Woods. His last Masters victory came in 2019, that bolt from the clear blue Augusta sky, long after everyone had stopped even half-imagining it was possible. But then everyone around him started firing balls into Rae’s Creek and missing putts and suddenly wondering why their knees were trembling like teenagers on their first date.
RM Block
Four different players held a share of the lead at some stage that afternoon in 2019 but managed to throw it away. Meanwhile, Woods went bogey-free across the back nine until he stood on the 18th tee with a two-shot lead. Remind you of anyone?
Watching McIlroy on Sunday, the thing that jumped out a mile was the dog that wasn’t barking. The general lack of desperation. How many nights have we sat up watching him sweat and sigh and jitterbug around the place? Shouting at his ball, pleading with it to GO or SIT – sometimes both within the same shot.
This time around, there was virtually none of that. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have cause – this was just as topsy-turvy a Masters Sunday as last year. Maybe even more so. Cameron Young led by two standing on the fifth tee. Justin Rose led by two standing on the 10th. Scottie Scheffler came scything through the field to go from 12 behind on Saturday morning to get within one of the lead on Sunday afternoon. The white noise of a Masters Sunday was ringing in everyone’s ears.
But if you want to know the difference between pre- 2025 Rory McIlroy and Masters champion Rory McIlroy, all you have to do is watch this final round back. He missed two makeable putts on the first and second hole, including a particularly squirrely one on the par-five second for which Young had already shown him the line. It meant that having been in front pretty much uninterrupted since Thursday, he was now not the leader of the Masters.
Think about how many times we saw this movie before last year. How many times have we psychoanalysed McIlroy from the couch? Enough to be able to tell whether he was having a good day or not purely by the sag in his shoulders or the bounce in his gait. Missing back-to-back 10-footers to give up the Sunday lead of the Masters? You best believe we’d have seen head-down, sulky Rory, gesticulating at the slope of the green and cursing its evils.
Not this time. McIlroy was the coolest man on the grounds throughout Sunday. It was a final round more or less free of heart-attack moments. There was that approach to the 15th, requiring a 105-yard wedge that he only hit 101. Had that number been, say, 97, it could easily have rolled back into the water. But it didn’t. It was enough. He sighed and puffed his cheeks that time all right.
But otherwise, he left the disaster-flirting to everyone else. Rose duffed a chip from the back of the 12th with the tournament at his mercy. Young went from getting every break possible on Saturday to landing in divots and missing every kind of putt going on Sunday. Russell Henley bubbled up late but missed key putts down the stretch. Scheffler was always going to run out of road.
In the midst of it all, McIlroy did the hardest thing – he kept it simple. The erratic driving that had smudged his work all week was tidy and neat when it mattered. He putted so much better than he had last year, with crucial hole-outs on seven, eight, 11 (for par), 12 and 13. He was four-under-par for that stretch of holes from the seventh to the 13th, moving him from two behind to three ahead. That was what won him his second Masters.
Going into last year, McIlroy had gone 52 Masters rounds without ever leading at the end of one of them. Among all the weird Rory-at-Augusta factoids, this had to be the oddest of them. No fewer than 41 other players had led after a Masters round in the 14 years since he’d last done it, either on their own or tied with somebody else. It was deeply weird and dumb that he couldn’t do it even once.
Well, now he’s led at the end of each of his last six rounds at the Masters. If he manages it again on Thursday next year, he will tie Jordan Spieth’s record of seven in a row. Nobody has ever won three Masters in a row – Nicklaus missed the cut in 1967, Nick Faldo finished tied for 12th in 1991, Woods was tied-15th in 2003. There’s always more history to chase.
For now, McIlroy is exactly what he’s never been. The one who keeps his head while all around are losing theirs, who hangs around and lets the rest of them make the mistakes that make him champion. He won this Masters with a round of golf that was thrilling in its dullness, spectacular in its non-McIlroyness.
Who ever thought we’d see the day?
