A tumultuous achievement... the greatest Irish sporting story ever told

Perfect moment of a haunted Irishman

- ROY CURTIS

IN the bulging anthology of epic Irish sporting poems, there might never have been a verse so abundantly lyrical as Rory Mcllroy spreadeagled, face-down on Augusta National's 18th green, the hot spring of his tears watering golf's sacred soil.

An ode to redemption, the sonnet-song of an often-wounded man who would not be broken, the stirring ballad of an imperishable night this most human of golfing geniuses made resilience and glory, vulnerability and grit, hope and history rhyme.

And sent the heavenly evensong of his earthshaking accomplishment echoing through the forest of mighty loblolly pines that frame one of the planet's most storied playhouses.

Finally unchained from his doubts, Rory gifted the watching world a night of fantasy and bone-shaking theatre that seemed to stretch drama, tension and emotion beyond any previously known bandwidth.

If watching was so utterly exhausting, imagine how physically and psychologically draining it must have been to be the lead actor on the stage rising above the breathless tension to deliver that last extra-terrestrial soliloquy.

At the end a single small, quivering and overwhelmed creature at the centre of a vast, camera-popping universe - he wore his relief and gratitude, the beautiful unvarnished euphoria of the moment, like an immaculately tailored outfit.

MOLECULE

One with a bespoke, custom-made green jacket as the most eye-catching item in the ensemble. The single garment of destiny.

There he was, after the winning putt, on his knees, forehead resting on the tightly mown grass, cap drawn over his brow, a small curtain of privacy as, a thankful supplicant at golf's most hallowed altar, he sobbed a blissful, heavenly hosanna.