THE look on the young lad’s face said it all.
Striding towards the next tee box after parring the second at Royal County Down last Friday, one shout pierced the air in the midst of all the commotion.
“Can I have your ball, Rory?”
Talk about right place, right time. Golf-mad Jamie from Skerries was standing five feet away, on the other side of the rope, when McIlroy casually tossed the ball in his direction.
He had already bagged mementoes from Thriston Lawrence and defending Irish Open champion Vincent Norrman, but this was the one that really mattered. The big Kahuna.
When the ball dropped into his paw, it was like watching Charlie Bucket uncover the golden ticket to enter Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.
But inspiration can shape-shift like no other, coming in all forms, often when least expected, often far from big names and bright lights.
Stephen McMullan, and his family, are among the most inspirational people I have ever had the privilege of meeting. For a lot of reasons, really.
Let’s take Stephen in his own right, first of all; Stephen the boxer, which is how he was known before December 10, 2021 when his life, and the lives of all those around him, changed forever.
Because, between the ropes, stood a guy who revelled in the odds being stacked against him. I was ringside for a fair few of Stephen’s fights through the years, and on most occasions he was giving away at least a few inches in height to the man in the opposite corner.
Small, stocky, compact, competing in the heavyweight division pitted him against bigger, sometimes stronger boys from the beginning - but never braver.
The second the bell rang, he would close the space, sit on his opponent’s chest and go to work; throwing digs, taking digs, never stepping back. Some you win, some you lose, but always the same smile as he walked to the corner, generous applause if the decision didn’t go his way.
Family and friends likened him to Andy Ruiz, the 25/1 outsider who sensationally flattened body beautiful Anthony Joshua at Madison Square Garden in 2019. It was a comparison he enjoyed.
Aside from partner Amy Fitzsimons, boxing was the love of Stephen’s life; Carl Frampton, son of from Tigers Bay - a stone’s throw from the McMullan homeplace on Limestone Road - was his idol, irrespective of what side of the north Belfast divide they came from.
Stephen’s last bout came in the Ulster elite championship final at Girdwood Community Hub on a Friday night, December 9, 2001. Christmas was in the air but, typically, there were no presents being handed out in the ring as he went to war with Charlie Boyle, the judges favouring the work of his opponent.
I remember watching Stephen emerge from the door to the right hand side of the ring that night, gear bag over his shoulder, pulling his baseball cap down, getting ready for the five minute walk back to his front door.
Getting on for 11pm, Boyle and his Monkstown club-mates were still celebrating as Stephen passed on the way towards the exit. You could see him pause momentarily, thinking of going over to wish his former foe well, before deciding against and heading for home.
It’s funny how some moments, no matter how insignificant they may seem at the time, prove hard to shake.
Less than 24 hours later, Stephen was plunged into his biggest fight of his life after suffering a massive stroke that left him with locked-in syndrome. There was every chance he may not have been here at all.
For Amy and his family, Christmas and New Year were spent by Stephen’s bedside – when strict Covid restrictions allowed – praying for him to pull through. To keep fighting.
Throughout five weeks in intensive care, and further months spent undergoing intense rehabilitation at Musgrave brain injury unit, they never lost hope. And, slowly but surely, progress started to come.
Big sister Claire would do whatever it took to hasten that process.
“I dressed up every Sunday,” she smiled when we met up after a year after Stephen’s stroke, “I walked into that ward, danced down that corridor, dressed up as a dinosaur, one of those big inflatable ones, about eight foot tall.
“Another day I was a man on a horse, Peppa Pig, a guy in a suit with a big you know what…”
Claire was also a cow, a rabbit on a different day. As she tells the story, Stephen is in kinks, laughing and roaring with delight. He is able to say plenty of words now, and communicates perfectly via text and with the help of an Eye Gaze speech machine.
But then it was different. At that stage they used a technique that required bunching groups of letters with numbers, with Stephen blinking in recognition to specify letter and words.
Considering all they had endured in the previous 12 months, and even when words no longer fired back and forth as they once did, it was magical to watch as these siblings still spoke a language of their own.
In February 2024, two years after friends and family had taken part in a charity fundraising walk at the Waterworks, Stephen took his first steps.
“Proud of myself is an understatement,” he said, “I was told I won’t walk again but hard work and dedication just proved them wrong… not the prettiest of steps but it’s knowing I can, and I will with more time, get better.”
And he has. Having moved into a new house with Amy during recent months, Stephen – now 27 - still works on correcting muscle memory every day, while his speech continues to improve.
“He doesn’t stop behind the scenes, honestly,” smiles Claire.
Last week, though, brought the greatest gift of all when the couple welcomed baby Edén into the world, weighing 4lb8 – the apple of their eye, and a symbol of what can be achieved, even when the odds are stacked in a different direction.
With a beautiful baby son in his arms, Stephen McMullan’s fight goes on; the spirit that carried him in the ring carrying him through life, whatever it throws his way.
