HOLYWOOD, Northern Ireland — Two decades before Rory McIlroy’s career-defining triumph, when he finally conquered his Masters demons with an emotional rollercoaster of a win at Augusta National, he did, in fact, already own a green jacket.
That was during his final year at Sullivan Upper School, which also happens to be my alma mater. I didn’t possess the sporting prowess to don the school’s green blazer, which is reserved for the top academics or athletes like McIlroy. But I did sport the same crest, a shield containing a green serpent, two red lions, a gold stag and a black-and-white boar, each animal representing the school’s four houses. Think Harry Potter, but distinctly Northern Irish.
Alongside the badge, emblazoned on every blazer, reads the school’s motto: “Lámh Foisdineach An Uachtar,” old Irish for “With the gentle hand foremost,” effectively emphasising the importance of kindness toward one another. It’s a phrase that perfectly encapsulates growing up here, in Holywood, the type of town where people still say hello when you walk past them on the street.
It’s a quiet town by the coast, populated by a little over 10,000 people. There are no cinemas, shopping centres or swimming pools. Instead, it’s mostly cafes and charity shops with a few pubs sprinkled in amongst them.
It’s a town just five miles from Belfast, but the two places couldn’t be any more different. In most cases, a little town so close to the country’s capital would merely be the city’s suburb, but this is a place with a rich and diverse history. Its maypole, the only surviving one in Ireland, is located in the heart of the High Street on a crossroads of four heads.
And it’s where McIlroy is from, the area he’ll return to this week as the Open Championship returns to Royal Portrush, 60 miles north of Holywood. How do you know this is where he grew up? A sign when you enter the town, of course. What about the school he attended? Well, within seconds of walking through the doors of Sullivan Upper, you are met with a picture of a beaming McIlroy in 2011, clutching the U.S. Open trophy, the first major he clinched.
The golf club where he spent his formative years makes no secret of the lasting impact McIlroy has had, both financially and emotionally. This is a proud town that doesn’t try to play down the relationship it has in the journey of an all-time great. It does the opposite. It celebrates his legacy, and why shouldn’t it?
Walk through the High Street on a weekday evening and you may only come across a handful of people. But rewind just a few months, and there was some real buzz about the place.
When McIlroy finally conquered his Masters demons in mid-April, there was a sense of relief throughout the streets, and it was impossible to escape the news.
Cafes, leisure centres and even an estate agent paid homage to its most famous son after his emotional win at Augusta. After all, this is a town that felt every setback during McIlroy’s 11-year major drought. That painful Sunday in July of 2022 when it felt like every one of his putts at the Open at St. Andrews were whiskers away from falling; the excruciating final four holes at Pinehurst last summer, when a late collapse allowed Bryson DeChambeau to sneak into the lead and snatch victory from McIlroy’s grasp.
I watched the latter at my family home in Holywood. A stroll down the road and it felt like the people of the town had gone into mourning. Everyone would refer to him on a first-name basis, one mention of “Our Rory” and disappointment was etched across their faces.
But his Masters triumph put that all to bed. Bring up his name to anyone in the pub now and you’re greeted with an infectious grin. Punters proud of him as if he were their own blood relative, and equally protective too. Like a big brother, they are allowed to criticise how he played. But if someone else does? They are met with much less warmth than is typical around here.
This isn’t just a town that Rory McIlroy happens to be from. This is a town that is proud of its association with an all-time great, and doesn’t shy away from its part in shaping his career.
The putting green Gerry McIlroy built for a young Rory at their home, left. A sign at Holywood’s entrance lets you know the career Grand Slam winner is from here. (Aaron Catterson-Reid)
Even McIlroy’s former house is something of a landmark. The back garden features a dedicated outdoor putting green, complete with six individual holes, each marked by its own flag — built during McIlroy’s formative years so that he could practise his putting at home.
It’s been a long time since the McIlroys lived here, but current owner, Aaron Williamson, knows what he has on his property. “We feel like custodians of it and there’s definitely a sense of responsibility for it,” said Williamson, a pastor at Holywood Baptist Church.
He frets about the current state of the greens and how to ensure it stands the test of time, against the not-trivial cost of upkeep. “We would love to keep it … for Rory’s legacy,” Williamson said.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t boasted that I went to the same school as McIlroy on several occasions. After all, people outside of Northern Ireland often think everyone knows everyone in our little country, so why not humour them a little?
It’s a proud school. Teachers take a lot of pleasure from the high scores in exams, as well as high attendance figures, the latter of which being an area that John Stevenson, who was headmaster at Sullivan throughout McIlroy’s five years at the school, quickly realised was not something that the five-time major champion would be excelling in.
“Gerry (McIlroy’s father) came to ask for something that I’d never been asked before,” Stevenson said. “He was saying, ‘My son’s coming into year 11, and I want him to be away from school more often than he’s in it’. And that’s not what we do.”
At the time, McIlroy was a part of Nick Faldo’s juvenile group, “The Faldo Series,” regularly travelling and taking part in amateur events for children aged between 12 and 21. All the while, both of his parents were working two jobs each, clearly sacrificing a lot for their only child.
“What are we for? Is it the reputation of the school I’m worried about? We’re an academic institution where most of the kids go to university. But in this minute, we’re here to help a kid. That’s the purpose of the school,” Stevenson said.
He reduced McIlroy’s class load to five, contacted his teachers, and set up a system in an era before e-learning was normalized or even possible. This system allowed them to store McIlroy’s work while he was away and help him stay organized with his tasks.
“If these parents have given up so much and sacrificed so much and got behind this young fella, we should do the same,” Stevenson said.
Stevenson wasn’t the only one to realise McIlroy’s potential at a young age and change the rules as a result. Eddie Harper, the former juvenile convener of Holywood Golf Club, allowed a seven-year-old McIlroy to join the club, three years before the normal age of acceptance, in large part because of the youngster’s drive and hunger for the game.
“In 1997, he was desperate to get out there and play, so I put it through the committee and not everybody was entirely happy from the outset because they were thinking of Rory walking in front of somebody and getting hit by a ball or hitting somebody with a ball,” Harper said.
All the boys interviewed with Harper before acceptance, and McIlroy was no different, showing up in a nice dark suit, white shirt and red tie.
“He said, ‘Mr Harper if you let me into the club, I won’t hold anybody up, I’m one of the fastest players around and I also know all the rules of golf.’
“I said: ‘Rory, if you know all the rules of golf you should be in the Masters.’ He was so confident and so keen. The rest is history,” Harper said.
McIlroy never forgot the influence Harper had on his career, either. When his former mentor, who was awarded a British Empire Medal for services to junior golf in Northern Ireland, retired in 2019, he was surprised by a tribute video, with McIlroy one of many to pay homage.
Rory McIlroy returned in 2011 to celebrate his U.S. Open win. In recent visits, he’s kept more of a low profile. (Peter Macdiarmid / Getty Images)
Speak to just about anyone who has come into contact with McIlroy, and “raw talent” are two words you consistently hear. Patrick Greene, an active member of the club, spoke about that on several occasions, recounting stories his dad, Peter, had told him from days playing with Gerry and a young McIlroy.
In one instance, a 14-year-old McIlroy three-putted the 18th hole for a score that Greene, 25, admits he himself would be overjoyed with now. However, even then, McIlroy’s standards were higher than most.
“After the miss, he lost his head a wee bit,” Greene said. “He threw up a ball and swung one of those old Ping Anser Putters, which have a really, really thin face, and apparently he hit the ball so cleanly, almost 200 yards up the fairway.
“That was something almost no athlete can do. Gerry of course told him off, but my dad was completely gobsmacked, like, something you’d see watching Happy Gilmore.”
People have come to the club from all over the world in recent times, with fans flying in from as far as the United States, Canada, South Korea and Japan to tour the premises and view the McIlroy memorabilia that lines the walls.
In the car park, a reserved spot bears his name. Walk inside and up the stairs, and you’re met with a collage of pictures, all of McIlroy, over the last 20-plus years. Beside that rests a cabinet, full of trophies he’s taken home, including the impressive 28-inch tall Wanamaker trophy, as well as the U.S. Open silverware.
The club’s facilities, with five indoor simulators and a high-end gym, reflect the considerable investment the 36-year-old has put into his former stomping ground.
“It’s a facility that you just wouldn’t get at a normal golf club. It’s not something you would see unless you’re at a resort club or a high-end American club, and Rory is the reason for that,” said Tom Widley, the club’s manager.
McIlroy returned to Holywood after his Masters triumph, but hasn’t been back to the golf club as of yet. After all, when he comes home, he clearly wants some privacy, and by all accounts, Holywood has given him that.
McIlroy is no doubt held in high regard in the town, but rarely does that admiration cross over into intrusion. He is still seen occasionally walking along the coast — just another native in a place that has struck the right balance of reverence and respect for its local hero.
“I think over these last couple of weeks, coming back over here, seeing people that I know that I haven’t seen since Augusta, having conversations about how people felt watching it and obviously rekindles how I felt playing,” McIlroy told reporters before the Scottish Open. “It’s been nice to have these couple of weeks to reflect and as well as rekindle my excitement and enthusiasm for the rest of the year.”
Another coastal town, Portrush, is where McIlroy will play in the 153rd British Open this week. The Open’s only ever been played there twice, in 1951 and 2019, the latter of which being the only time McIlroy has competed in a major in Northern Ireland.
A disappointing first round, where he shot 8-over-par, meant that he missed the cut despite scoring 6-under in the second round. McIlroy has won the Open before, back in 2014, when he bested Rickie Fowler and Sergio García, but that was across the Irish Sea, in Liverpool. This is at home, where it will mean more for McIlroy and Northern Ireland.
But in a country that is so often split for religious reasons, McIlroy’s legacy is already set in stone, according to Sullivan’s current headmaster, Craig Mairs.
“In this really divided place, Rory has completely transcended all that nonsense,” Mairs said. “The way he navigated all the talk around who’s he going to represent, was a great example for our kids.
“The resilience, the determination, the great skill and laser focus is inspiring. But in Northern Ireland, particularly, I think transcending above the nonsense. That is real sporting legacy there.”
(Top photo: Andrew Redington / Getty Images)