‘Just go home, Rory!’ | Angry McIlroy vents his frustration at US Open

Rory McIlroy’s US Open unravelled in plain sight on Sunday, a performance so far removed from his usual precision that even his own body language betrayed his frustration. The four-time major champion arrived at Shinnecock Hills with ambitions of ending a decade-long drought at the national championship, but a single misplayed approach shot on the third green exposed the chasm between expectation and reality. By the time he walked off the course, his exasperation was impossible to ignore—an unmistakable signal that this year’s edition of the tournament would not be his.

What happened on the third green

The flashpoint came at the third hole, a par-four playing 455 yards to a green guarded by a front-left bunker and a slope that repelled anything short. McIlroy’s drive found the fairway, but his approach from 198 yards landed short and right, rolling back into the rough. The result was a bogey, his first of the round, and a moment that visibly rattled him. His shoulders slumped, his head shook, and in an instant, the tournament’s narrative shifted from redemption to survival. By the time he reached the turn, he had already dropped three strokes behind the leaders, a deficit that would only grow as the afternoon wore on.

What made the moment particularly damaging was its timing. McIlroy had started the round with three consecutive pars, a steady if unspectacular beginning that suggested he might grind out a score in the low single digits. Instead, the third green became a microcosm of his entire week: a swing of the club that promised so much but delivered so little. The frustration wasn’t just about the bogey—it was the manner of it, the way a single misjudged club selection undid the work of the opening holes. His wedge, intended to carry the front edge, came up short and drifted right, leaving him with a lie that demanded a delicate flop shot over the false front. The attempt came up 12 feet shy, and his par putt lipped out, sealing the bogey in a way that felt like a self-inflicted wound.

Why it matters now

This wasn’t just another missed cut for McIlroy at a major; it was a reminder of how unforgiving the US Open can be, even for the game’s most accomplished players. Shinnecock Hills, with its firm greens and punishing rough, has a way of exposing flaws that other courses conceal. McIlroy’s struggles were not isolated to one shot; they were the culmination of a week where his driving accuracy dipped to 58%, his strokes gained off the tee fell below his season average, and his putting lacked the usual rhythm that has carried him through tough conditions in the past. By the time he signed his scorecard, he had carded a 73, a round that left him 11 strokes behind the leader and well outside contention.

The frustration McIlroy displayed wasn’t performative—it was raw, unfiltered, and entirely justified. Golf is a game of inches, and at the highest level, a single mistake can cascade into a litany of errors. For McIlroy, who has spent years chasing a fifth major, the US Open has become a graveyard of near-misses. This year’s edition added another chapter to that story, one where the difference between brilliance and mediocrity was measured in the width of a fairway and the firmness of a green. His approach to the third green was emblematic of a broader issue: his inability to find the right balance between aggression and control in conditions that demanded precision over power.

The road ahead

What comes next for McIlroy is unclear, but history suggests he won’t dwell on this disappointment for long. He has a habit of regrouping quickly after major setbacks, whether it’s a missed cut or a Sunday collapse. The question now is whether he can recalibrate his game for the remainder of the season, starting with the PGA Championship in two months. Shinnecock Hills exposed the gaps in his preparation, particularly around his iron play and short game, areas he has refined in the past but that deserted him this week. His proximity to the hole on approach shots averaged just 28 feet, well below his season norm, and his scrambling percentage dropped to 42%, a stark contrast to his usual 55%.

For the rest of the field, McIlroy’s struggles served as a reminder that the US Open doesn’t care about reputation or pedigree. The tournament’s brutal conditions will ruthlessly expose any weakness, and on Sunday, McIlroy was its most high-profile victim. His frustration was a rare glimpse into the mental toll of chasing a major, a reminder that even the best players are one poor shot away from irrelevance. As the final groups made their way to the 18th green, McIlroy’s round was already over, his hopes of a Sunday charge extinguished by a single misplayed approach shot. The frustration he displayed on the third green was a microcosm of his week—a week where the promise of a breakthrough collided with the reality of a course that refused to yield. For now, the only thing left to do is regroup, reset, and prepare for the next opportunity. But in the moment, as he walked off the course, the message was clear: this wasn’t the year.