Blow-in’s blowout hits home

THE timing was perfect and apt. As Darren Clarke walked into the Dunluce Room at Royal Portrush Golf Club, went up the stairs and turned left, the bar opened.

It may not close for some time to come.

Clarke has promised to finally fill the Claret Jug after bringing it back home in some style yesterday.

He’d got some sleep the night before — the full 10 hours to be precise — but the look of bewilderment was still on Clarke’s beaming face as everyone from Martin McGuinness to Graeme McDowell stopped to say hello.

“Darren’s the first Northern Ireland golfer to win a Major in four weeks!” tweeted McDowell as he joined a party that hasn’t really stopped for Ulster golf since his own Major breakthrough at the US Open just over a year ago.

McDowell is a local round these parts, Clarke still what they call a blow-in. That explains why the sign at the entrance to the town of 6,500 people proclaims: “Welcome to Portrush — home to Graeme McDowell, champion golfer.”

Clarke has passed that sign almost every day he’s been at home for the past year. He can’t get to the practice ground at Portrush without seeing the reminder that his younger golfing buddy got to the Major winner’s enclosure before him.

“Graeme deserves that accolade because he’s from around here, he’s a real local,” declared Clarke, minutes after he had presented his British Open gold medal to the club in the hope that it will rest in the trophy cabinet alongside Fred Daly’s reward for his 1947 British Open triumph.

“We moved here when I was 17 or 18 but I’m an outsider, Graeme is the man who really put Portrush on the map. Mind you, there were days when I wanted to stop and draw a moustache on it,” he laughed.

Everywhere he turned yesterday as well, there were reminders for Clarke that his overnight sensation, 20 years in the making, was indeed a dream come true. The proof was even there when he woke up in his own bed yesterday morning for the first time in over a week — and with a new sleeping partner.

“I almost fell asleep with a mixture of exhaustion, happiness and a few beverages when we visited the local Bay View hotel on Monday night,” admitted Clarke.

“Thankfully, Alison got me out of there before I did fall asleep and I was straight to bed when we got home. I got 10 hours sleep and it was brilliant but when I woke up the Claret Jug was there beside me.

“My son Conor had gone to bed with it on his pillow and he’s hardly let it out of his sight since I got home but it was there to remind me that this is all real.”

Conor and brother Tyrone had an amusing tale of their own to tell their dad in the Portrush club that they too now call home.

A week ago, they were looking at the Fred Daly medal in the trophy cabinet that attracts the attention of the many green fee visitors, a number that is set to increase thanks to the Ulster Trinity of McDowell, McIlroy and Clarke.

“One of the young assistants here told the lads that their dad didn’t have one of them and the lads replied that I hadn’t got one yet,” recounted the new champion. “Thankfully I have now.”

Killarney’s Irish Open of all the Major winners is next for Clarke. “I’ll have sobered up by then,” he promised.

“I’ve a big cheque to collect in London tomorrow which will be nice and a few other things to sort out before next week but we’ll enjoy this a little bit more.

“I haven’t filled the Claret Jug yet but I’m going to very soon. I think the fans like me because I have a drink, I smoke a cigar, I do the things you’re not supposed to do.

“Trust me, we’ll do all of that before the week is out. It’s time to have some fun.”

The 20 year wait for a Major is over for Clarke and the WeightWatchers diet is on hold, probably forever.

A sign on a roundabout en route to Portrush predicts that Jesus is coming. God arrived yesterday. And the party ain’t over.