McGeady still on the factory floor

Michael McGeady went for a job interview in Spain last week. In fact, he would do four interviews over four days and, if he did well, he’d progress to two further rounds of interrogation.

While 156 wanted the job, just 25 would get it. The scrutiny would be intense, the competition even more so.

The Derry man has been plying his trade in the field all his life, constantly looking to improve. He has invested more money in the profession than he’s actually made from it, striving for betterment. He leaves his family behind to go on training courses for weeks at a time, usually funded by himself. He’s a journeyman looking for a promotion, factory floor to executive level type of thing.

But he’s not getting any younger and by the time he turns 37 next May, he’ll be 10 years in the job. So, last week’s Q-School Final Stage of qualifying for the European Tour was appropriately titled ‘shit or bust week’ by the Tournament Director Mike Stewart. The Scot has overseen this recruitment process for several years and, while he’s a fan of it, he knows it can make or break a golfer’s career... and his spirit.

“If they’ve a bad week and don’t make the top 25, they’re going to be going in one direction: Down. If they do play well and are successful and get on the top rung of the European Tour then they’re hopefully going to have a good season back at the top end of the game, so it’s very important,” he said.

“It all comes down to the one week and, if you’re a regular in the season playing in the main tour, you can have a bad week but you always know there’s another tournament next week and you’ve a chance to make up for it.

“At Q-School, if you’ve a bad week this week that’s your next 12 months, possibly more, determined.”

Sadly, McGeady — one of five Irish in line for the vacancies — had a nightmare in the second round and all but took himself out of the reckoning. He would gather himself for the subsequent two rounds but, when the 156-man shortlist was trimmed by half, he was at the wrong side of the cull.

There were no polite ‘thanks, but no thanks’ e-mails or phone calls afterwards. There wasn’t a single person to offer McGeady an answer, only this reporter with a question: ‘Er, what now?’

“I don’t know, the way they’re setting up the golf courses now…,” he offered, forlornly. “They’re so long, you’ve got to be long, have a good wedge game and be a good putter, but if you’re not hitting it 300 yards off the tee you’re putting yourself at a big disadvantage. I’ll just have to sit back now and assess what the future holds, as far as golf is concerned I’m not sure what to do. I’m sort of at that stage now where I’m late 30s and I’m thinking ‘is this what I want to do?’ And I’m not sure it is.”

Granted, it’s not the end of the world and McGeady can still play professional golf, albeit in the lower-ranked and financially less rewarding Challenge Tour. But he’s been in that cell before.

“That does not appeal to me, not one bit,” he interjects, emphasising the ‘not’. “It doesn’t interest me. I’ve a family now and I’ve to look after them and the prizefund there doesn’t cover your costs. You need to be heavily sponsored to compete, but I’m not. I might play some regional stuff if I continue playing, but I’m not sure what to do. At this present time, I just feel like putting the clubs away.”