On Sunday, holding the Claret Jug, Cameron Smith's voice broke and elsewhere so did Rory McIlroy's heart. The ghosts of the Old Course would have laid a gentle hand on the Northern Irishman's shoulder. It's OK, boy. For 150 years they've witnessed the saddest tales.
The ghosts can tell you about defeat and how it has a look. You can see it on your eight-year-old kid who misses a penalty in school. You can see it on McIlroy on Sunday. It's the look of the bewildered, the punctured, the weary, the injured. Something has been stolen from them.
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