Ben Coley's Masters analysis: Rory McIlroy leads heading into final round

Three to the power of six

When people say, as they've often said, that Rory McIlroy's best golf is the best, it upsets some other people. That's not unreasonable. This is one of the rawest forms of recency bias we have in golf analysis. Nobody says it on one of those rare days that he's struggling. They say it when he's doing the sort of things he was doing on Saturday, when he started the final round with pitch-and-putt scores: 3-3-3-3-3-3.

The thing is though, this is sport. You're meant to lose yourself, to be moved to places that have you making proclamations you might not be able to stand up under the rigour of a cold light. When people say, as they've often said, that Rory McIlroy's best golf is the best, the real meaning is that it moves them in ways others cannot. And that's part of what has made him so divisive, yes, but so intoxicating; so beloved.

Those first six holes were electric. There was a defiance, a readiness, to that opening drive, the one where he redefined what the middle of the club face means. It was the sort of swipe that quickens pulses. Then, there he is at the second, chipping in for eagle. That's the sort of thing that does far more than quicken a pulse. Birdie at three, par at four, birdie at five, and not a single missed shot. Everything went where it was supposed to bar the first putt at six, but the second one did so it doesn't matter.

Afterwards, things went awry, at least for a while. McIlroy made us endure one of those spells during which he's off by a fraction and isn't able to scrap through it. On eight, a slight miss off the tee bled into the remainder of the hole and he took six. On nine, a short missed putt meant par when the approach screamed birdie. On 10, from the dream position, he made a three-putt bogey after a misjudged approach.

Had another bogey arrived at the 11th, where an iffy pitch left him nine feet up the hill, who knows what might've happened. But that putt went in and suddenly McIlroy became sharp, able to score; par from the back of 12, birdie from the back of 13, par from the back of 14. Two shots ahead of his playing partner, Corey Conners, three of anyone else. Scottie Scheffler stuttering, Ludvig Aberg missing a late chance to go lower still.

This final hour would set up Sunday. It was on McIlroy to either take the tournament by the scruff of the neck or, whether by making mistakes or simply not making progress, he would if not waste that start, then not capitalise upon it, either.

Eagle at 15 to lead by four. Redemption for Thursday and there's some irony for you: if he hadn't made seven on day one we might not now be dreaming of day four. He might not have produced the golf he did on Friday, and so on. Of course, none of this matters. All that matters is now and, now, walking off the 18th green, one thing is very clear: this is McIlroy's best chance to win the Masters since the year 2011.

Not quite perfect

Many, including whatever neutrals exist, will be thrilled that we have Bryson DeChambeau in the final group with McIlroy, two behind after a stunning birdie at the last, alone in second. In some ways it's perfect: to banish the demons of Pinehurst, McIlroy will have to look his conqueror in the eye. These are golf's two biggest superstars. We do not have to worry much about the TV ratings whenever they're revealed.

But if you ask me, I'd have loved Shane Lowry to have been in that final group with Rory instead, and if not him, they Corey Conners. This is a seismic task for McIlroy regardless, but somehow it gets one inch bigger now that we know it'll be DeChambeau teeing off alongside him on Sunday night. And that was before his third shot on 18 rolled perfectly into the centre of the hole for an unlikely closing birdie.

It was never going to be easy, was it?

Bryson's approach

The biggest danger to McIlroy is DeChambeau by a distance, a two-time major champion who is sure of what he's doing, who can take this course apart on the right day and who will relish the chance to go off in pursuit of the leader.

But to win the Masters, surely he'll need to hit better approach shots than he did during round three, where the only memorable ones were from long range at the eighth and close range at the 16th. Elsewhere he was very poor, lacking any semblance of control, often missing left. It's a good job the rest of his game was firing, particularly the putter at the first and last holes where possible bogeys ended in birdies.

DeChambeau is not a one-dimensional golfer, but just as it makes sense that Scheffler has two majors so far and both have come here, so it makes sense that DeChambeau's have come in US Opens. At Augusta, the common traits of a champion are quality irons and a short-game to die for. In a US Open, power beats everything, though DeChambeau did of course show much more than that in winning both.

So far in his turbulent career, DeChambeau has figured everything out. If he can fix this one big weakness, we will be talking about something close to the complete player. For now, Masters Sunday will challenge him to improve on what he did on Saturday. Better irons feel like an absolute must if he's to reel in McIlroy, whose precision with those clubs may never have been better.

Tough mudder

Today was the day I learned that Augusta tells broadcasters not to say driving range, because it doesn't sound as mighty as 'tournament practice area', and that back-side (i.e. the back-nine) is also forbidden. When Nick Faldo admonished Nick Dougherty for joking about squirrels, I thought he was joking. Now I'm not so sure.

It was fitting then that Jordan Spieth came out firing, not just complaining about mud balls, but revealing that you're not meant to do that. I love the Masters and the green jackets and the phones policy and basically everything about this tournament, but the people running it are a bunch of prats aren't they.