Rory McIlroy expected to pay out in legal dispute with Horizon Sports
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Version 0 of 1. In local colloquialism Dublin’s Four Courts building is referred to as something else: the Four Gold Mines. The nickname is not without a legitimate basis, a point emphasised during day one of much-anticipated courtroom proceedings between Rory McIlroy and his former management company Horizon Sports. Three sittings, the same number of adjournments and a grand total of two formal minutes in Court One. The judge, Mr Justice Brian Cregan, was compelled only to nod his head in agreement three times. Perhaps he, like so many others who have been hauled into this unseemly affair, would rather be attending to other matters. Everything now points towards the battle being settled – and to the tune of several million pounds from McIlroy’s pocket – rather than continuing in its full, eight-week form. At the very least there is finally a will from the two parties to engage properly with a view to ending their dispute. It will not be amicably given the context, but less acrimoniously and publicly than would otherwise be the case. Until now there had been a massive gap in what Horizon sought and McIlroy was willing to part with. What concessions are made in terms of reputation and apologies may be as pertinent as the true sum McIlroy must hand over for terminating his Horizon contract in 2013. Lawyers’ fees, which already represented seven-figure telephone numbers, continue to tick along very nicely. McIlroy’s wish to avert a witness box appearance, which could last for up to 10 days, is understandable. The cross-examination of one of global sport’s most instantly recognisable figures could be a difficult, damaging experience for McIlroy. Common sense says he would quite happily do without it. Still, this has to be offset against how wronged the 25-year-old feels by the earlier actions of Horizon. A visibly relaxed, chatty McIlroy was on court premises having sauntered through a vast rank of camera crews and photographers at 10am on Tuesday. The “Morning boys” he offered to writers he is accustomed to seeing on fairways was proof of that demeanour, which remained throughout the day. It was only the world No1’s senior counsel, Paul Gallagher, who spoke in the courtroom. Gallagher, it should be noted, is a former attorney general of Ireland and therefore hardly unaccustomed to weighty matters of law. At the start of proceedings, bang on 11am, Gallagher asked for a three-hour adjournment in order to “narrow some of the issues” which had arisen in this complex case. At 2pm Gallagher pointed out the “parties had made progress”, in seeking a new, two-hour window. Serious negotiation was clearly under way. By 4pm the barrister pointed towards “further progress” in having his wish for an 11am return on Wednesday granted. And, to the watching world, that was very much that. In one of Dublin’s most historic venues this proved quite a scene. More than 30 journalists crammed into a wood-panelled courtroom which measures no more than 50ft square. Even lawyers from other cases peered down from the public gallery before proceedings got underway. At 10.58 eerie silence arrived as a consequence of excitement and the unknown element of what would happen next. If the bespectacled McIlroy, flanked by his uncle, the chief executive of his charity foundation and two employees of the management vehicle, Rory McIlroy Inc, could not believe matters had come this far, then he did a perfect job of hiding it. The fact that those employees, Sean O’Flaherty and Donal Casey, were once on the books of Horizon offers just a snapshot of the deep-rooted personal issues which underpin this case. Some 14 boxes of legal papers were stockpiled around the McIlroy party. Just a few rows further back sat Conor Ridge, Horizon’s founder and main shareholder. He looked anxious and uptight, a scenario which had noticeably changed by the time of the final adjournment. Ridge is known to have been deeply affected on a personal level by events of the last two years. A mutually beneficial conclusion seems imminent, one which could make Ridge a seriously wealthy man. In the grand scheme of things, a few more hours to secure that end point should not really matter; this airing of dirty commercial linen in public is of benefit to nobody. |