IRISH OPEN:ON THE Thursday night of a tournament, some mysterious ailments tend to afflict a golfer on tour after a bad score. A sore shoulder, a pulled back muscle. Wounded ego. When Graeme McDowell scrolled down on the computer some hours after his first round to discover he was second from last, the reality of his position cut into him.

As he remarked, “my manager Conor (Ridge) was a bit worried that maybe my head might be unscrewing itself.”

There was nothing to worry about. Yesterday, making the most of a lull in the weather that gave him the better side of the draw, McDowell produced arguably the round of his life: a course record 61, all of 16 shots better than his opening effort.

It was magical golf from a player who set out trying to restore damaged pride only to discover himself in a mystical zone that so rarely comes along. For large parts of his round, he could do no wrong.

And, when he finally got to sign his name to a 61, the lowest round of his tour career, McDowell emerged from the recorder’s hut and knew that his round of an eagle, 10 birdies and a solitary bogey had more than restored his pride. He had played his way back into the tournament.

“My record in the Irish Open is not unbelievably good at all, I’ve had too many weekends off and I didn’t want another one,” remarked McDowell.

It didn’t take long for him to get out of the blocks yesterday and he played like a free spirit with nothing to lose. A start of birdie-birdie-eagle-birdie-birdie-birdie – seven under for six holes – had his playing partners Jose Maria Olazabal and Ross Fisher wondering if it was the same person who had hacked his way around with them the previous day. The metamorphosis was truly incredible.

When he was eight under through eight holes, a thought occurred to him. A 59 – that most magical of all numbers for golfers – suddenly beckoned.

“I’m thinking 59 and it’s very difficult to keep the foot down. You know what I mean? In some ways, bogeying the 12th might have been the best thing that happened to me, it kind of gave me the kick to refocus . . . it’s tough to stay in the present when something like that is going on. So, that’s my only regret, that I don’t have the complete and absolute focus required. But, I mean, who does?”

Of that zone that he managed to get into, rolling in putt after putt, McDowell remarked: “You’re in that zone, that state that everyone talks about, but we don’t really know what it is . . . but, when you’re in there, it is pretty cool. I’m big into the mental game. I work hard on it. I’m a big believer that it is the key to this sport.”

On Thursday, after his opening 77 seemed to have ruled him out of the tournament, McDowell hit the range and spent over two hours belting out his frustration on golf balls. That night, he allowed himself two pints of Guinness. Yesterday, he returned to the scene of his heartache and proceeded to produce the round of his life. Funny old game this, you know.