Rory McIlroy fans and legal eagles await opening shots

If Rory McIlroy thought his disengagement from Caroline Wozniacki was a public affair, it was a Sunday morning stroll over a local nine-hole course compared to the majors-scale excitement caused by his uncoupling from his former management company.

The world’s top golfer faced a barrage of cameras as he arrived at Dublin’s Four Courts for the latest installment of ‘The Break-up — Part 2’, starring himself and Horizon Sports.

Golf-watchers the world over were waiting eagerly to see his opening shot in the high-stakes contest over a pot of fees, commissions, and endorsement shares thought to be worth anything from €13m-€40m.

However, a fog of legalities descended upon Court Number One before he could enter the witness box, and the contest was adjourned as soon as it began.

And while the next five hours were filled with anticipation of play resuming, it was soon clear that both sides had left their clubs in their bags and were opting for that other gentleman’s game — negotiation.

McIlroy is suing Dublin-based Horizon Sports Management over his unhappiness at the way he was treated while the firm represented him over 18 months up to May 2013. Horizon is counter-suing for breach of contract and loss of earnings after their star signing’s departure.

Attempts at mediation had already failed and the High Court was braced for up to eight weeks of claim and counterclaim when Paul Gallagher, counsel for McIlroy, told Mr Justice Brian Cregan the two sides were trying to narrow their differences and needed an adjournment.

He returned several hours later to say progress was being made and a further adjournment was required. On his third outing in the late afternoon, he gave assurances the sides were still making headway and sought another break to 11am today.

A tanned and relaxed-looking Rory, fresh from his Dubai Desert Classic victory at the weekend, seemed completely unaware he’d brought the desert with him, leaving the four rows of assembled media gazing over a vast, empty tract of newspaper space and broadcast airtime with little by way of action to fill it.

He chatted easily to his eight-strong entourage, took coffee in the canteen during adjournments, and appeared none the worse for having the world looking on at the end of this relationship.

When a warning was sounded across the courtroom against the temptation by any member of the public to take photos of the proceedings, McIlroy produced an imaginary phone, stretched out his arm to optimum length, smiled broadly, and snapped a pretend selfie.

We should know if he’s smiling for real this morning.