Rory McIlroy and Tiger Woods: Linked by Age

The golf music is similar. 

A young golfer, clad in a logo-covered, tight-fitting shirt, swirling the club on his follow-through.  

 Close your eyes and remember that fateful Spring of 1997 when the golfing world was chirping over signs of a daring young lad who made the golf ball dance and electrified the crowd at the famed course at Augusta.  

A kid, just 21-years, three-months, and 15-days old.  

Now, open your eyes to Sunday and hear the same roar of the crowd; the same amazing, youthful exuberance.  

Then, channel your statistical mind.  

Rory Mcllroy was just 22-years, one-month, and 15-days old on his Sunday drive.

McIlroy’s dominance—four sizzling rounds shooting in the 60s—happened at a Congressional layout that was in the top three of the longest courses in US Open history.

Graduated rough or no rough with a splash of pine-straw, he joined Tiger Woods and a kid named Bobby Jones as the youngest major winners—ever. (Jones was 21-years, 3-months and 28-days old—as if anyone was keeping score of his birth date—at the 1923 US Open.)

The beat of the music and the quotes sound familiar.  

Following his effort Sunday, Mcllroy said, "If it wasn't for my mom and dad sacrificing so much, I probably wouldn't be sitting up here right now."

Yikes, that sounds like that Stanford Cardinal guy back in, oh, 1997.

Hug from his dad—check.  

Announcers lauding his greatness—check.  

Hitting shots not seen or heard from other golfing rank and file—check.  

Competitors using words like flawless, talented, grit, and saying things like, "I saw this coming"—check.

Two young guns making headlines. One in red, the other blue. Maybe blue is the new red?

This is the point where there might be small differences.

Sitting in the Congressional tennis center—turned into a media outpost for the Open—Mcllroy said, "If you had asked me when I turned pro when I was 18, 'Do you think you'd win a Major by the time you're 22?' I would have said no."

Wait, this is sounding a little like a young man who has candor—a guy that shot one of the worst final rounds by a leader in any major just two short months ago.

And, just when things look and sound eerily similar, it's good to get the microphone up real close.

"It's nice that people say that [I] could be this or [I] could be that or [I] could win 20 major championships, but at the end of the day I've won one," he added.  

Time to click the humble button.

The tick of the clock and a few spoiled walks will determine whether the one young gun and the former young gun meet on the fairways. It might be a wishbone of golfing fans or a fateful knee tendon that decides whether a rivalry ever occurs.  

Nevertheless, until then we have a young phenom with one major and a former phenom with 14.  

That is a wide fairway.  

One is truly a one-man band and has some great golf records, and the other a touring band that has been derailed by an injury to the lead singer.  

Will Tiger play again?  And if he does, will the music sound like it did before?

There is still so much that needs to happen before we have an Arnie-and-Jack situation.  

A lot of range balls need to be shot like cannon balls off their clubs before we compare them.

Or they may simply take diverging paths on the fairway.  Or, into the woods.