& # 039; How Lowry became Portrush's Pied Piper & # 039;
The moment Shane Lowry won the Open
Shane Lowry was in Portrush on the 16th and watched the frightening length of this intimidating par-three with a club in his hand and a smooth look on his face.
He led The Open with six shots. Somewhere in the distance, over those dunes and those grandstands and that huge crowd of people, he could see the winning line.
Amid the wildly fluttering flags of all competing countries, the R & A might as well have added another – a white surrender on behalf of every other player in the field. They all tried to go to him, but none succeeded. Passed Lowry. In reality, he never looked forward to doing anything else.
Everyone who looked at him was cold and wet. Everyone was caught in the storm on the seventh and eighth holes when the rain was blowing and the wind was blowing. Long before the end, the brain began to turn to pulp.
During the peak of the worst weather, an Irish voice heard that if a wheelie-bin was in sight, it would jump in and close the lid. "Like Oscar van Sesame Street," his friend laughed. "Oscar lived in a trash can, not a trash can," his friend said. "Strictly speaking, he lived in a" trash can, "said a third man.
Things became a bit surreal there. Nothing as surreal as the heroic deeds of the nearby man, of course. Nothing can come close.
Drama at the first moment as Fleetwood makes a shot at Lowry
The 16th is notorious here. It is called Calamity Corner for a reason. However, Lowry was in a place where nothing could harm him. He kicked home and prepared for the win. Still a stalky focus, still in his bubble. It is impossible to know if Lowry heard, but on the way to the 16th t-shirt, a Northern Irishman shouted at him: "You make us proud, Shane." U.S.
Because of the sunshine of Saturday and the brutality of Sunday, Lowry was brought into a serenade. He was not south or north, he was not Catholic or Protestant, he was Irish. He was their husband. He was the one who handed over all their passion and all their love when Rory McIlroy left on Friday.
They united through Lowry. And it was powerful. Back in the worst days of The Troubles, the people who tried to build bridges were always terribly undermined by those who tried to blow them up. The badness always got more projection than the goodness.
Here was nothing but positive energy and mutual understanding of a common cause. This was a day of days for Lowry, but also for Portrush and for Northern Ireland. The beauty of the place and the friendliness of the people was always there, but it was explained this week for the golf world.
Lowry saw it more clearly than most – and it meant a lot to him. He was probably surprised by it in the beginning. He probably stunned him when the truth was told. His wave was not the only glorious sight. He talked about that. His words of appreciation for the support he received were abundant and genuine.
On his way to the most stunning final, the scenes became extraordinary. At the 16th green, the crowd of supporters & # 39; s ran and hit him. They helped each other off. They laughed and hugged each other. They were on their way to a party. Lowry had become the rat catcher of Portrush.
By keeping people at bay, the marshlands became much more tense than the man in the midst of chaos. Before stepping onto the sixteenth green, Lowry looked away to his left for a stir around the scoreboard. People had climbed on top to catch a glimpse of him. Such was the racket, his game partner Tommy Fleetwood had to ask for silence.
The two holes that Lowry & # 39; s Open triumph sealed
The accents were different, but the message was the same. & # 39; Come on, Shane! & # 39; Or, so to speak, how much does it come up: & # 39; Go on, boy! & # 39; When Lowry embarked at the age of 16, his father, Brendan, blew out his cheeks in a joyful blend of relief and pride.
Brendan Lowry was a forerunner in the winning Offaly team of All Ireland from 1982. A tough little man who beat his weight. Even now, as he was on his way to the 17th to the accompanying shouts of & # 39; Good man yendself, Brendan Lowry & # 39 ;, he seemed like a person you wouldn't want to cross. That toughness would melt quickly. No amount of steel can withstand the heat of what happened 18.
Lowry played his approach and in the end we saw emotion. In a week that yielded so many iconic images of such a beautiful golf course, nothing could be the warmth of the embrace between Lowry and his caddy, Brian & # 39; Bo & # 39; Martin, surpass before they walked to the last green.
The golfer from County Offaly in the Republic of Ireland, the caddy from County Down in Northern Ireland. There were no limits here, only a friendship and a famous victory. A happy rush then happened. The marshmallows struggled to pull a thick rope over the fairway to stop everyone. Just as well our friend never found that wheelie bin. He would not have missed this.
In acclamation, Portrush bursts into a song. & # 39; Ole, Ole & # 39; followed by the & # 39; Fields of Athenry & # 39 ;. This was not just a golf mecca now. It was Kingspan Stadium when the Ulster rugby team was flying. It was the last day in Croke Park on All Ireland. It was a piece of everything – and it was special.
Lowry later said it was one of the most amazing weeks of his life and he will never forget it. The huge army of fans who roared his name at the weekend, in good and bad conditions, will not forget it either. Portrush, Northern Ireland, the whole of Ireland waited 68 years to receive The Open. They won't wait long.