, Aurelius writes: “First, do nothing inconsiderately, nor without a purpose. Second, make thy acts refer to nothing else than to a social end.” Alas, Aurelius neglects to mention anything about starting a ruck in a car park. Perhaps that bit got cut out of the first draft.
Within a few holes of his singles match against Sam Burns, we got a little closer to discovering the answer. The European fans serenaded him with their now-familiar rendition ofby the Cranberries: “He’s in your head, in your head, Rory, Rory, Rory-ry-ry …” Meanwhile, the world No 2 had locked himself away inside his own head. Even as the red blocks began to assemble on the scoreboards, he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, on the ball and the target that he intended to attack directly.
There is a devastating simplicity to McIlroy’s golf at its most aggressive. It is as if he can barely see the green at all: everything else beyond that billowing flag may as well be irrelevance. Already 1 up going into the 3rd, he fired his approach high and straight, landing just 8ft from the cup and stroking the slippery birdie putt down the hill with all the assurance of a man catching a grape in his mouth.
It feels curious to recall that McIlroy was actually one of Europe’s poorer performers on that flawless Friday morning, dragged through by Tommy Fleetwood against an indifferent Cantlay and Xander Schauffele. Something seems to have clicked in him from that point, a determination not just to contribute but to lead. The clutch putts have been dropping. The galleries have waved and danced to his tune.