WHAT RORY McILROY TAUGHT ME ABOUT EXCELLENCE WHEN I WAS 15
Rory McIlroy during the 2024 Amgen Irish Open at Royal County Down (Photo: Harry Thompson)
GUEST COLUMN: BY DANIELLE McVEIGH
July 4, 2025
Today, we're diving into a story that really stuck with me from my own golfing days. It’s about a moment that completely reshaped my understanding of what it means to truly excel, not just in sport, but in life and your career. And believe it or not, the pivotal character in this story was a young guy, barely a teenager, by the name of Rory McIlroy.
Back in 2003, I was fifteen and thought I was on top of the world. I was a decent golfer, proud to represent my club and Ulster. I’d put in the hours, seen some success at a local level, and honestly, felt pretty happy with myself. Then came the call that sent me over the moon: the Irish Team had selected me to represent Ireland at the European Young Masters in Germany. It was a massive honour, a dream come true. I packed my bags, brimming with excitement, convinced I was about to stride onto the international stage as a budding star.
But stepping onto that international stage was like walking into a different dimension. The moment I arrived, I realised I was in a different league entirely. And then there was Rory. He was only thirteen, two years my junior, wearing that oversized Irish blazer that practically swallowed him. The kind that makes a child look like they’re playing dress-up in their dad’s clothes. But as soon as he opened his mouth about golf, or picked up a club, it was clear: this wasn't just any kid. This was something extraordinary.
RORY’S CONFIDENCE WAS OFF THE CHARTS
During the practice round, the difference became painfully clear. I was trying to hit fairways, playing it safe, playing it "right." Rory, on the other hand, saw the course with a vision I hadn't even begun to fathom. He wasn’t just trying to keep the ball in play; he was shaping shots with intent – cuts, fades, angles I hadn't even considered. His confidence was off the charts. He carried himself with the assuredness of someone twice his age. I had finished early and Rory was on the back 9, I ran back and offered to caddy for my teammate, which was a tradition, and Rory just shook his head with that now-famous grin, "No, I got it." At the time, it might have seemed a bit cocky. But looking back, it wasn’t arrogance at all. It was control. He understood that true success comes from owning every single variable, something I was only just beginning to grasp.
The tournament itself was the ultimate wake-up call. I shot an 85 on the first day and finished in the bottom third. Rory shot something like a 70. He ended up as the runner-up, and the thing that stuck with me most wasn't his score, but his reaction. He was disappointed. Genuinely disappointed. For me, just being there, representing my country, was success. But watching Rory, I saw his definition of success was entirely different. He expected to win because he had put in the work. He had the vision, the control, the relentless pursuit of excellence. That’s when the penny dropped: I didn't even know what was possible, or what it took.
That tournament wasn’t just about golf; it was a hard reset on everything I thought was possible. It showed me the chasm between "good" and "world-class." It wasn’t about talent alone, or even just effort. It was about intentionality, vision, and an unwavering commitment to mastery.
When I got home, I didn’t just shrug it off. I sat down with my coach, and for the first time, our conversation was different. I said, "If that’s the level I want to get to, if that's what true excellence looks like, what do I need to change? What do I need to do differently?" It wasn’t just about tweaking my swing or hitting more balls. It was about fundamentally rethinking my approach to preparation, my mental game, my vision for what I could achieve. It was about adopting that mindset of owning every variable, of expecting to win because I’d put in the work for it.
LOST FOOTAGE
And amidst all this, there was a personal side note. My parents were there with their brand-new digital camera, eager to capture every moment. My dad was snapping away; me on the range and a priceless photo with the legendary Bernhard Langer. But in my excitement, my complete and utter focus on everything but the camera, I somehow managed to bulk delete every single one of those precious photos. Hence having to use an AI generated image for this post. It is a shame, especially now that my dad’s no longer with us. It’s funny how those small moment; a deleted photo, a seemingly misplaced shot take on a whole new meaning when you reflect later.
Even without those photos, the memories of that week are vivid, and they’ve shaped me ever since. That experience taught me more than any technical lesson. It taught me the importance of setting audacious goals, of visualising success, and of taking full ownership of your journey. Rory, at thirteen, was already demonstrating what it meant to be a professional in his approach, long before he turned pro. He showed me that true excellence isn't just about what you achieve, but how you pursue it. It’s about the mindset you bring, the intentionality you apply, and the constant striving to be better, to understand every nuance, and to control every variable within your power.