By Cormac Ryan, Director of Golf & Hospitality, Killeen Castle
For four days this past week at Royal Portrush, we bore witness to an exhibition of golf that was both awe-inspiring and oddly unsettling. Scottie Scheffler, the World No. 1 and indisputably the best player on the planet, dismantled a stacked Open Championship field with the ease of a man walking to his local shops. But as remarkable as his golf was, what lingered longer than any memory of a particular shot or round was the curious absence of emotion - from Scheffler himself.
“It’s just not that important,” he said post-round, when asked what this latest major title meant to him. “I try to keep things in perspective. I’m not defined by golf.” He meant it as a humble gesture, and perhaps it was. But coming from the game’s most dominant force on one of its grandest stages, it landed with a strange hollowness.
Because for the rest of us - fans, volunteers, greenkeepers, and yes, struggling scratch players and club captains alike - golf is important. It consumes weekends and wallets, relationships and reputations. It humbles us. And when we turn to the best in the world, we want to see our struggle somehow justified in their joy, their relief, their pride. Not dismissed with a shrug.
Contrast that with 2019, when Shane Lowry turned Portrush into a cauldron of Irish celebration. His win wasn’t just a personal triumph - it was a communal catharsis. He battled nerves, wind, weather, and weighty expectations. Every fist pump, every tear on the 72nd hole, connected him to the very soul of the Irish golf community. We felt it because he felt it.
The return of The Open to Portrush so soon after that unforgettable week was already significant. It marked the R&A’s growing appreciation for what this island brings to golf - heritage, passion, and a people who revere the game. Now, there is growing momentum to bring The Open to Portmarnock in the next five to seven years. That would have been unthinkable a generation ago. The club’s historic stance on exclusivity and questions around its accessibility once made it a non-starter. But the modern R&A has changed - they are trying, finally, to make what was once the British Open truly open and international.
And to achieve that vision - a Claret Jug journeying across borders and traditions — the role of our state tourism bodies cannot be understated. Fáilte Ireland, Tourism Ireland, and Tourism Northern Ireland have quietly but powerfully elevated the profile of golf across the island. Their efforts to position Ireland as one of the world’s premier golf destinations are not just about showcasing dramatic coastlines or storied links; they are about building infrastructure, securing investment, and ensuring the likes of the R&A can envision a future where major championships span jurisdictions, cultures, and communities.
Events of this scale don’t happen without deep public-private collaboration. And if the Open is to visit a greater variety of venues across the Irish Sea in the decades to come - north and south - it will require continued, visible support from these tourism stakeholders. That means long-term funding, strategic alignment with the R&A’s objectives, and a shared vision that sees golf not merely as a sport, but as a pillar of cultural and economic value for the island.
Being on the grounds at Portrush for the week of The Open was to witness a story that began with promise and nostalgia, only to slowly unravel into something far more subdued. The early buzz was electric - Rory McIlroy’s much-anticipated homecoming stirred the galleries with dreams of redemption from his missed cut in 2019, while Shane Lowry’s return to defend his Royal Portrush crown brought a sense of pride and poignancy. The crowd welcomed him like a returning hero, his 2019 triumph still fresh in local memory and folklore. For a time, hope allowed us to feel as though lightning might strike twice. But as the days wore on and the leaderboard settled into a familiar pattern, with Scottie Scheffler quietly tightening his grip with every robotic round, the energy began to fade. What began as hope slowly deflated into inevitability. By Sunday, even the cheers felt tired - not because we lacked admiration for Scheffler’s brilliance, but because we’d all seen how this story would end long before the final putt dropped.
Scheffler’s domination will be remembered for its brilliance. But in Portrush, we were reminded that the most lasting golfing memories are not made by talent alone - they are made in the struggle, and in the emotion that follows. Lowry showed us that in 2019, as did Rory so vividly in Augusta’s cathedral of Pines this April.
....Maybe Portmarnock will give us another reason to believe.