Early this morning, British Summer Time, one of our own made history.
Graeme McDowell, of the Rathmore Golf Club in Portrush, became only the second person from Northern Ireland to win a golfing major, the US Open at Pebble Beach. In doing so, he joined Fred Daly, also of Portrush, who won the Open at Hoylake in 1947. And it is maybe no accident that the local administration has recently seen fit to put up a blue plaque marking Fred Daly's birthplace, a mere 300 yards from Graeme McDowell's home club.
The weather in Portrush this morning is much the same as Pebble Beach yesterday - overcast. Apart from one or two local TV vans, there is nothing unusual about the town. The tide flows; the tide ebbs. But Graeme McDowell's victory is a quiet triumph for everyone who just goes quietly about their business, keeping their head whilst all around are either losing theirs or hawking their exceedingly modest "talents" in the media.
McDowell had an outstanding US college career - and indeed won only his fourth event on the European Tour. To celebrate, he called his home club and opened the bar on his tab. It was not abused. He has won only - only! - five events on the European Tour, the latest with closing rounds of 64 and 63 at Celtic Manor, but was always regarded as the less glamorous of the Two Macs. Many thought that his appearance at the last Ryder might be the highlight of his career.
Not so, my friends, not so. On hearing that he hails from Portrush, many assume that he is a member of Royal Portrush. Not so - Rathmore is the working man's club in the town, playing on the Valley links at the grace of its famous neighbour. And its members are not professionals from the usual suspects of the law, medicine and finance. They are working men and women, people who understand that the only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary.
Which is why Graeme McDowell, despite material success and a very comfortable living, set out to make himself better and better, regardless of time and effort. And his victory is one for those of us who know that we have to serve our time, the grafters who just get on with the job, meeting and greeting triumph and disaster day and daily, the "little people" so easily dismissed as journeymen.
Oh, we're journeymen all right. We're the ones who don't need inane sportswear ads exhorting us to "just do it." We've been "just" doing it all our lives: running our affairs competently and honestly; taking care of those entrusted to us; laughing at our own peculiar follies and sharing others' heart-ripping tears; putting our own ambitions aside - sometimes for ever - so that we can further the hopes and dreams of others.
And for those of us who hail from this little backwater, known until recently for all the wrong reasons, it is a day of quiet satisfaction that one of ours has made it to the top of the tree. To see that "NIR" at the top of the leaderboard at the end of the day - that's the business, Graeme. That's the business. And the gracious messages of congratulation which we have received from all our golfing friends in the USA and the Republic of Ireland bear eloquent witness to this.
You say that you want more majors - and indeed we hope that you succeed. But you've already secured your place. You've grafted your way to the top and that's enough for us, friend. Thank you - from life's journeymen.
