The Junkyard Court: This Ain't No Exhibition
The Northern Irish are scarred people evidently, pick a side or not. It doesn't matter. That was years ago. It's proven all the Irish and British men can come together and defeat the rest of the European men in golf. The since disbanded Seve Cup was played bi-annually from 2000-2013. It featured the islanders against the rest of continental Europe. Only eight events were held, the island boys went 6-2. Seve Ballesteros knew the island fire, knew why punk rock was born there. These people have lived on their heels for millinias. Fending off Viking raids, many times unsuccessfully, old entitled Romans and their vast kingdom, Germany's blitzkrieg bombs, various religious claimers, and countless other recorded and unrecorded scenarios. No wonder the initial American patriots, and others to other places, went floating for a calmer life, almost undercover as colonists. Most stayed where they floated. Not sure they all got what they wanted, but America is America. Still searching west for calm, all the way to California.
Rory McIlroy is now more Floridian than Irish, geographically anyway. His golf record is titaniam, already worthy of legendary status. Only 28, he's likely to add more valuable hardware. Perhaps later today. Already, money is no object. At his age, the simple power of compounding almost assures he will be a billionaire one day. Maybe he already is.
He seems tremendously honest, with his priorities, goals, conduct, and answers to questions. Once asked about the Ryder Cup, he termed it an exhibition, which the golf bluebloods scoffed at. How dare he call this exhibition an exhibition! Samual Ryder, an English businessman and early golf nut that made a fortune selling seeds, would have likely not been offended by the term. Also, Rory once had the nerve to say he preferred playing golf in 80 degree weather and little wind. Hmmm, me too. After chunking a club into the lake st the 2015 Cadillac event, his supposedly controversial comments were (brace yourself): It felt good at the time but now I regret it. Frustration got the better of me. Again, the uptight scoffed. At what? Immediately, my mind is reminded of the satisfaction felt at destroying a Babolat racquet just a couple months ago. A put away volley clanked off the frame and into the net. On break point! An hour later the action was regreted, frustration did get the best of me. If I'm honest. Secretly, I know I could do it again one day, and will want to, and will feel it logical and warranted. I hope I don't, but if I'm honest.
Yell in his backswing, McIlroy might just stare you down and tell you to frack off. Probably have to be around him some to follow his accent, but he's relatable. Even his well publisised engagement-abandonment to Danish tennis professional Caroline Wozniaki seemed like authentic cold feet. After a short phone call, his final twitted sentiments wished Woz all the happiness she deserved. Since then, Wozniaki won her first grand slam title, historically reclaimed the #1 ranking, and became engaged to David Lee, who played solidly for the last Dallas Mavericks team to really put up a legitimate fight. Happy events, all. This Rory is a prince, his wish for her came true.
For what its worth, Rory's professional golf results have slipped since, his main achievements attained during the same time frame he was with Woz. Something about the Danish. From Gorm The Old to his son Bluetooth, and the rest. They usually get what they want. For better, or for worse. Maybe she placed an old Viking curse on ole Rory, but probably not. She doesn't seem that type, a friend of Serena, a gracious and graceful lady, a humble tennis princess. But, even a humble tennis princess must be a killer competitor. So Vantaggio. Jason Keck, co-founder of Vantaggio Tennis Apparel Company, calls her Woz. It is a term of endearment. Her endorsement brand is strong, her capitalism value already proven, her magazine images lengedary in their own right.
In truth, Rory's had some injuries, something about an ankle or muscle pulls of various sorts. Probably got brainwashed by weightlifters and started bulking up. He doesn't seem to talk about it, which is respectable in its own way. No excuses, no reasons, only results. Rory too found love since. This time the feet were fine, rings exchanged, and all endured a likely long, long Catholic wedding. Reminds all of the famous old Irish folktune: "Oh, the Os! Oh the Micks! Came to America to find our chicks!" Mrs. McIlroy is a New Yorker. And Rory is back in the final Sunday pairing of the Masters, golf's greatest prize and the final trophy he needs to earn golf's Career Grand Slam. Sarazen, Hogan, Player, Nicklaus, and Woods are the 5 names on that short list. Honestly, I hope he does win it later today, I'll miss it due to a Nantucket jam session, but it will play out and be reported out. Men From Nantucket may even cover 'Oh, The Micks' in his honor. If he wins. We should know by 6CST. He's chasing an American, Patrick Reed, and other Americans lurk, but I don't feel unpatriotic. Any more than hoping Roger Federer smashes Jack Sock or pulling for Caroline Wozniacki to win the 2018 Australian Open. This ain't no exhibition! Honestly.