I remember Italia 90, the smiling faces, the way everyone seemed to buy into the feel-good factor.
For me, though, there were mixed feelings. Yes, it was great to see Irish football on the world stage. But while the team reached a World Cup quarter final, it never reached its potential.
I felt pleased for people who were having a great time but the truth is that we were treated to a lot of sentimental old mush in those weeks. People jumped on a bandwagon and celebrated a side who scored two goals and didn’t win a match in the tournament.
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So the difference between what Jack Charlton did in 1990 and what Rory McIlroy did on Sunday night is simple: Rory won.
To do so he had to beat two things. The first was his demons as the memory of his four-shot lead getting wiped away from 2011 had never left him.
And the second thing was the opposition. The field at Augusta 2025 was incredibly deep. Yet Rory had too much for them.
Watching his travails across 14 years, I’ve grown to appreciate that this gifted young man has as much substance as he does style.
When LIV tried to buy him out, he stood up for his beliefs and said no to the oil money.
That sort of stance wins you respect. Okay, it may not have won him a green jacket, but it did go a long way to convincing the patrons at Augusta to cheer for him over his rivals on Sunday, the American Bryson DeChambeau and the Englishman, Justin Rose.
I found that fascinating, watching a son of Ulster and Ireland, connect with a far away audience.
And I know why and how it happened.
You see Americans love the comeback story. They have seen Rory’s travails, his battle with doubt, and have seen him overcome that.
They have seen him go so close, so often, that they could identify with a principled man who never gave up on his dream.
So, in a sense, the back nine of Sunday’s final round, was a microcosm of his career.
There was brilliant golf to build a substantial lead. Then there was the momentary lack of concentration which condemned him to dropped shots and a share of the lead.
And finally there were the comebacks, starting with that miraculous shot on 15, when he bent the ball around a tree, and his second comeback in the play off, when he birdied the 18th, minutes after missing a putt to win it.
I’ve watched a lot of sport in my time.
I have seen greatness and mediocrity.
And on Sunday I saw something that moved me to tears.
What McIlroy has is authenticity as well as brilliance.
Remember his quote about why he turned down the $100m to play at LIV?
“I only need to use two rooms in my house; why do I need the extra money? What they are doing to golf is something I hate.”
There and then, people connected with him. Certainly my admiration for him rose even higher.
He, along with Ruby Walsh and Johnny Sexton, are the three Irish sports people I respect and admire the most.
That’s why Sunday night was one of the greatest sporting nights I have lived through.
I rooted for the Irishman not just because of his nationality but also because of his story, the respect he showed his parents when he spoke about the sacrifices they made on his behalf.
We can empathise with a player overcoming a difficult situation because this is the life we all endure. Things go wrong. Sometimes you have to fight. Sometimes you need to scrap. Sometimes you get knocked down.
But it is the person who gets back up who you learn to admire.
And that, on Sunday, was Rory McIlroy.
This victory fulfils his dreams as a sportsperson and elevates him to rare company. He now has as many Majors as Seve Ballesteros. He also has a career grand slam and now that he has shaken the monkey off his back, it is inevitable that he will progress and win more.
As Irish people, we are lucky to have him. So move aside Italia 90, this was better.
