As he stood in the pine straw late Sunday afternoon, deep in the trees, wild to the right of the 18th fairway, Rory McIlroy he exhaled, rolled his eyes, and shook his head, as if to suggest that he, too, was exhausted by the drama. Did it really have to be that hard? Apparently, it did.
After entering the weekend with a six-shot lead and an apparent stranglehold on the tournament, the man tries to become just fourth Masters the champion to defend his title had pressed the replay, right, replaying the feast or famine game he scored Grand Slam coverage run in last year’s victory. As in 2025, the 2026 Masters was his to lose, and for most of the day on Sunday, he seemed determined to do just that. A stressful level on the first hole. A three-shot bogey on the 4th to trail Cameron Young by two. And then another shot fell on the 6th, with a birdie on the 3rd splashed along the way.
All week, McIlroy had said things felt different this time around, now that he had a green jacket to his name and a lifetime invitation to the Masters. And yet what he produced on Sunday was more of the same, a nail-biting, whiplash-inducing thrill ride of spectacular shots and head-scratching mistakes.
Elsewhere on the course, the noises brought echoes of the recent past as well. Justin Rosewho was knocked out by McIlroy in last year’s playoff, went 32 on the front camera, only to cause a leak around Amen Corner. Every Rose has its thorn and is official: Justin’s is the Master.
For a nervous spell on Sunday, McIlroy looked destined for more Masters heartache. Never mind what he said about getting the monkey off his back – collapsing into the Butler’s booth and slipping the green jacket onto someone else’s shoulders would have been a special kind of torture.
Instead, he did what he did last year: Playing with a red ass, he putted the red numbers, birdieing 12 and 13 to take command (and then nearly letting it go again when his wedge on the par-5 15th barely made it over Rae’s Creek). He was two feet clear on the 18th tee, his green jacket all but back over his shoulders, as if he stopped being himself for a moment.
He couldn’t. Pulling the driver, he blasted one right into the Georgia pines, eliminating any chance of an orderly finish. The growl from the gallery was familiar, almost endearing. This was vintage McIlroy: crazy, mystifying, awesome all at once. He hacked and made bogey, which was pretty good. A tap for victory and a replay in more ways than one.
“I just can’t believe I waited 17 years to get a green jacket,” he said afterward, “and I get two in a row.”
With his second Masters, Rory McIlroy has left his demons in the distant dust. He is following the story now. It will take a lot of energy to keep going.
