United Airlines reunites Rory McIlroy with his missing golf clubs

Hey, Rory McIlroy! At least United didn’t lose my golf clubs.

Seems McIlroy and I shared similar frustrations with a certain U.S. airline that recently could not seem to find a, um, fairway with a howitzer.

After finishing T23 Sunday in the U.S. Open, McIlroy must have had a layover in the New York area, from which he tweeted his frustrations with United Airlines for misplacing the tools of his trade that he kinda had to have for this week’s Irish Open.

What the two-time champion was doing handing his precious cargo over to a commercial airline, let alone flying out of Newark on a regularly scheduled (more on that later) flight, boggles the mind. Don’t multi-millionaire golfers charter private jets or fly on their own from tourney to tourney?

Certainly, Keegan Bradley did just that to make it from Pinehurst on Sunday night to a sponsor’s event in New Jersey bright and early on Monday morning. I’m certain he hopped on another such conveyance to airlift him from the swamps of Jersey to Hartford for this week’s Travelers Championship.

This typist was not nearly as fortunate as Henrik Stenson, Ian Poulter and the several other Audemars Piguet “ambassadors” who arrived at Liberty National Golf Course -- a bit bleary-eyed, but none the worse for wear given their first-class accommodations -- and likely scattered to the four winds in similar fashion. No, this poor schlub (who got to mingle and hit a few semi-golf shots with the big boys earlier in the day at Liberty National) booked a 7:30 p.m. ET United flight from Newark to Boston on Monday night.

Big mistake.

As announcements bombarded us unwashed masses in the United terminal with an incessant succession of changes in arrival/departure times and venues (“Flight 464 will depart Gate 70 ... 72 ... 85”), I considered modifying my plans and airline (JetBlue, which brought me flawlessly to Jersey, would have made sense). At one particularly tense moment, as the afflicted aircraft remained beached on the tarmac just steps away, this jet-setting savant had visions of taking a header through the window a la Lloyd Bridges in “Airplane” (“Trans American Flight 209 non-stop from Los Angeles is now arriving at Gate 7 ... Gate 8 ...”).

Gate attendants droned on about a “mechanical delay” (gulp!) as I wandered the endless airport corridors like something out of “Night of the Living Dead,” with my MacBook Air strapped into my backpack and wheeling my overnight bag listlessly behind me. As I wondered what to do, where to turn, I worried that my clubs would not catch up with me if I switched flights but I decided to put my name on the standby list for the last flight out of Dodge.

Good news for both weary travelers. After an extended delay and the installation of a new generator in the plane, my original flight was only a pokey three hours or so late and I arrived safely at home with moments to spare before the witching hour of 1 a.m., golf clubs in tow.

As for Rory, United kept him apprised of its progress.

Finally, golfer and sticks had an emotional reunion.