The PGA Tour made Rory McIlroy its ‘sacrificial lamb.’ Where does he go from here?

Rory McIlroy arrived at his press conference at the RBC Canadian Open with a gripe for the assembled media.

A day after pro golf’s supermerger became the centre of the sports conversation, McIlroy was of the belief the event was widely mischaracterized.

“All the headlines were: PGA Tour merges with LIV,” McIlroy said. “LIV’s got nothing to do with this.”

He was right, but only on a fine point. If Tuesday’s news was widely reported as a merger between the PGA Tour and LIV Golf, the Saudi-backed rebel tour that poached PGA Tour players with vast paydays, it technically wasn’t that. It was an agreement for the PGA Tour to partner in a new commercial venture with LIV Golf’s backer, Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund, along with the DP World Tour. And you can understand why McIlroy wanted that distinction made clear.

For McIlroy, it’s been a draining year since he came to the 2022 edition of the Canadian Open a year ago and put in admirable if exhausting double duty.

Twelve months ago at St. George’s he excelled both on the course, where he shot a memorable Sunday 62 to win the tournament for the second straight time, and at the microphone, where he eloquently cast himself as the PGA Tour’s chief loyalist, denouncing the LIV venture that was holding its inaugural event in London that same week.

At a moment when the pro golf world was damagingly divided — with black-hatted duo of Greg Norman and Phil Mickelson threatening to rain chaos on the sport — nobody defended the honour of golf’s established order better than McIlroy. He seemed to take the rift personally. And the attachment appeared to take a toll. After missing the cut at the Masters in April, McIlroy incurred a $3-million (U.S.) penalty for no-showing at the RBC Heritage to take a mental health break from the game after what he described as “a pretty taxing 12 months.”

But even on Wednesday, with golf’s civil war now over, McIlroy hadn’t exactly let bygones be bygones.

“I still hate LIV. I hope it goes away,” McIlroy said Wednesday.

Speaking of the players who turned their back on the PGA Tour for LIV’s lucre, McIlroy said he wasn’t ready to welcome them back, even if the whole point of “unifying” the sport infers they’ll eventually be eligible to return.

“There still has to be consequences to actions,” McIlroy said. “You know, the people that left the PGA Tour irreparably harmed this tour and started litigation against it. Like, we can’t just welcome them back in. Like, that’s not going to happen.”

Still, McIlroy was splitting hairs with his claim that LIV had “nothing to do” with Tuesday’s merger. If the media no doubt simplified the terms of the arrangement for mass consumption, it’s not a huge leap to equate LIV and PIF as essentially the same entity. And while McIlroy sounded convinced that the new deal was beneficial because it gives the PGA “control of everything” … well, the idea that the PGA Tour will be in charge while the Saudis demurely stroke huge cheques is a quaint enough notion. Time will tell how that power dynamic plays out.

Not that McIlroy is anyone’s stooge. On Wednesday he showed himself to be a pragmatist above all. Anyone of the belief that McIlroy spent most of a year denouncing LIV Golf’s traitors because he detested their choice to accept the blood-and-oil-soaked lucre of the Saudi Arabian regime and its abominable human-rights record got it wrong. McIlroy made clear on Wednesday that it was never the source of the money he had a problem with, but rather with the way LIV Golf was using it.

McIlroy even acknowledged the fraudulent nature of PGA Tour commissioner Jay Monahan’s efforts to demonize LIV defectors for taking money from the murderous kingdom that also bankrolled the 9/11 attacks only to announce Tuesday the PGA Tour was taking presumably even more money from that same murderous kingdom.

“Of course, I understand that it is hypocritical,” McIlroy said. “It sounds hypocritical.”

Still, McIlroy said he’d “resigned himself” that the Saudis and their multibillion-dollar war chest weren’t leaving golf’s doorstep any time soon. And this, he reasoned, was the best outcome.

“Whether you like it or not, the PIF was going to continue spending money in golf. Would you rather have them as a partner or an enemy?” McIlroy said.

McIlroy was asked if the golfers who declined LIV money ought to be “made whole” for their loyalty to the tour.

“I mean, the simple answer is yes. The complex answer is: How does that happen?” McIlroy said. “And that’s all a grey area, up in the air at the minute.”

And though he clarified that he was “never offered any money” by LIV, he might be among those making a case for post-sporting-war reparations, if you will.

“It’s hard for me to not sit up here and not feel like a sacrificial lamb — you know, feeling like I’ve put myself out there and this is what happens,” he said. “Again, removing myself from the situation, I see why this is better for the game of golf. There’s no denying that. But for me as an individual, yeah, there’s just gonna have to be conversations that are happening.”

In other words: Never mind feeling sorry for the guys who missed a chance to cash their Saudi lottery ticket. After a year spent defending the honour of the tour, McIlroy sounded like a man who might appreciate a payday for carrying its water.

“All I’ve wanted to do … in the past year is to protect the future of the PGA Tour and protect the aspirational nature of what the PGA Tour stands for,” McIlroy said.

In the end, mind you, precisely what a Saudi-funded PGA Tour stands for still isn’t exactly clear. Something like: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Or: take the money and shrug.

“It’s very hard to keep up with people that have more money than anyone else,” he said. “At the end of the day, money talks, and you’d rather have (the Saudis) as a partner.”

Dave Feschuk is a Toronto-based sports columnist for the Star. Follow him on Twitter: @dfeschuk