Rory McIlroy is still very much in this 146th edition of the Open after wiping out the memory and the numbers of a first round that threatened to send his troubled season into a tailspin. Against expectations, the 28-year-old conquered the worsening weather and his nagging self-doubt for a 68 that leaves him tied for seventh and poised to charge at the leaders on Saturday.
Those rivals eyeing the four-time major champion with the bruised game and trembling confidence should be worried – although Jordan Spieth, who came home with a stunning late charge on Friday evening to finish 6 under, has made his own serious statement of intent.
“To be one under par for this championship after the way I started, I’m ecstatic with that,” McIlroy said. “I just had to turn it around. I had to find a couple of little key thoughts, and I feel like I have. I went with those today and it worked. I’ll try to keep those in my head the next couple of days.”
McIlroy’s biggest challenge was one familiar to partygoers everywhere: to remember who he was – as his caddy, JP Fitzgerald, memorably remarked to snap him out of the doldrums on day one – and then to race the howling wind to the warmth and comfort of the lovely art deco clubhouse at Royal Birkdale. He got indoors with his dignity and scorecard intact while the stop-start driving rain and biting, cold wind teased the main late finishers, Spieth, Matt Kucher (-4), Brooks Koepka (-3) and Ian Poulter (-3). McIlroy might have been packing his bags early for the fourth time in five starts but for an inspired start and finish to his round, and a lot of grinding golf in between.
Lurking perilously among the stragglers after a disastrous five bogeys in the first six holes of the championship, McIlroy burst into the top 10 by mid-morning on day two. At play’s end, he could reflect on four birdies and a pair of bogeys with a lifted heart.
When he resumed in the windy morning gloom, he stuck a birdie on his card, and all looked set fair for a glorious rehabilitation after seven months of cracked ribs, battered ego and mounting pressure to prove himself all over again.
What changed was his demeanour. On the third, he put the ball within a few feet of the pin, turned to Wayne “Radar” Riley, the energetic Australian course hound who is working for Sky, and said: “You made a good target.” It was encouraging to see him relaxed and smiling. He was in the red at last after 52 minutes, and six under for the previous 11 holes. The wave tops were whitening vigorously not far away, the clouds were building their tanks up and the race to beat the weather was on.
McIlroy’s emotions ran high but in the right direction. The odd poor shot was greeted with a knowing shrug. Taking more calculated risks now with his clubs than Justin Thomas takes with his wardrobe, he was in his element – and his elements. The wind was his friend, not his enemy.
The world No1, Dustin Johnson, and the expert wind manipulator Charl Schwartzel – who edged to within a shot of the lead with a birdie at the 4th, before crashing with a double bogey at the 5th – did not cope so well. They would finish three and four over respectively. After two hours, the wind was roaring and the story was Rory.
The accepted wisdom when a breeze turns into a baby gale is to ride it, not fight it. The problem on a course with so many skinny fairways is that trusting the fade – the preferred shot off the tee among most professionals – in a gusting left-to-righter is dangerous. On the 8th, McIlroy found the bunker as the wind toyed with his ball. “Did you see where I started that?” he asked JP, referring to a monster inswinger. His exquisite sand wedge saved par.
The greens were running at 9.7, which professionals regard as putting in mud, and the swirling air that whipped treacherously at all angles across this undulating patch of seaside loveliness made the finishing stroke a nightmare. On Thursday McIlroy putted 31 times. On Friday, 24.
Nevertheless, his trump card remains his power off the tee. In more benign conditions on Thursday, he was the second-longest hitter, averaging 326 yards on the stipulated holes, 15 and 17, but the course spiked his guns, as he found only six of 16 fairways (43%).
On Friday, he cut his distance to 313 yards, readjusted his hair-line and had the same fairway return. Those little statistics said a lot.
McIlroy did well to get under the now brutal high wind and find the 9th green from a good spot but Johnson, struggling, could only find the unsuspecting cheekbone of Philip Reid, the golf correspondent of the Irish Times, who got in the way of his errant mid-range iron shot from a similar position. He signed the ball for him and apologised. But he gave Reid a decent story to tell his readers, too.
Conditions now were officially awful. Flag sticks bent like pretzels as the wind hit 24mph-plus on some holes, and as little as 10mph on others. The temperature slipped from a high of 19C towards the low teens. Holding par was a triumph.
And then, for the first time in the round, jitters gripped the McIlroy putter as he lined up on 12. He had saved a string of pars from more difficult places on and around the green since his third birdie – six holes previously – but now he pulled away, blew out his cheeks and potted it. He looked relieved rather than satisfied. He made bogey on the 13th. He found a left-side bunker on the 14th – and plopped it next to the flag.
McIlroy was tilting towards the cliff edge again, dragged back to square with a bogey on 15 – but he did not buckle. A birdie on the most conquered hole on the course, the 567-yard par-five 17th, gave him a late rush.
He had to handle a 29mph right-gusting howler on the 18th, got there in regulation and was cheered by the reception of the frozen gallery. He was happier still when he tapped in on a day that could easily have finished off not only his ambitions here but a good chunk of his season.
