Rory, Rory, Rory: On Sunday at the Masters a hero rises in the dusk

AUGUSTA - "Rory, Rory, Rory." It's past 6pm at the 18th hole at the Masters on April 13 and the scoreboard is being updated. A bellow emerges. It shows Rory McIlroy at 12 under. He's just birdied the 17th hole and has a one-shot lead over Justin Rose. A ripple of expectation stirs the crowd.

- Rohit Brijnath

The 18th green is ringed by thousands of people and many of us can't even see the green but no one will leave. Emotion and history have tied us to this place. McIlroy is coming up the fairway to end his fourth round and victory requires only a par. Simple. Right?

The crowd is 10 rows deep or more and I'm locked in it. I can glimpse the top of the flag but that's about it. It doesn't matter because sometimes sport just has to be felt and heard. A man's triumph over himself is a powerful thing to witness.

"Rory, Rory, Rory." All day people chant. They start just before 2.30pm when he arrives at the first tee with a "knot in his stomach". This man is a Northern Irishman, he's playing with and against an American, Bryson DeChambeau, but you can feel people pull for him. Sport is not logical, sometimes just visceral.

These fans know golf, they know his 11-year wait for a Major, they know his wait to join the exclusive Grand Slam gang (Gene Sarazen, Ben Hogan, Gary Player, Jack Nicklaus, Tiger Woods) who have won all four Majors. All of us understand chances: once you are younger and there are so many and then they pass and so few remain.

Later McIlroy will fall to his knees. "All relief," he will say. Later, he will weep and not just once. Later he will address his daughter Poppy during the Green Jacket ceremony and talk about persistence.

"Try and try and try again," he says.