IT may have been the lead item on Morning Ireland, but the fact that Rory McIlroy is now number one in the world rankings doesn't really matter. At least, it doesn't really matter to the one man whose opinion really counts here, that man being Rory McIlroy himself.
You wouldn't know this from listening to the great roar of misplaced pride emanating from RTE news and sport, but the world number one before Rory was a certain Luke Donald, a very nice man apparently, but one who would be largely unknown to the Morning Ireland-listening layman.
And Luke had vied for the title with another Englishman called Lee Westwood, again a delightful fellow by all accounts, but like his compatriot, a man who has never won one of golf's major championships, and who will probably never win one, because that's just the way it is.
Indeed Lee said that it would be "a relief" for Luke not to be number one any more, because after all, when you're number one, the only way to go is down.
Well, that's not true is it? You can always stay where you are, at number one, can't you?
Then again this whole "world rankings" business, not unlike the Ryder Cup, can be seen as a sort of a back-door consolation for men like Luke and Lee. Though listening to Morning Ireland and to Ireland in general last week, you wouldn't know it.
You wouldn't know that Rory McIlroy was better than that. That the US Open he won last year is of more value to him, than to be the permanent resident of the world number one spot from here to eternity.
And the Truth was getting even further away from us, with the straight assumption that this largely ceremonial award was being bestowed on one of our citizens.
Certainly any visitor to the Republic, listening to this story as we were telling it, would be in no doubt that Rory McIlroy was one of ours, and is not in fact a man who has spent the vast majority of his days travelling down the Queen's Highway, perhaps on his way for a swift 36 holes at Royal Portrush, or even Royal Co Down.
You would never imagine that as he walked down the last fairway at Congressional on his way to that US Open victory, he was offered and he politely refused an Irish tricolour, a gesture which will forever be seen as one of absolutely heroic resistance to the ancient and implacable forces of eejitry.
And if there was still any confusion on the subject, when any flag is attached to Rory's image, it looks to me -- how can I put this? -- it looks to me like the flag of St George with the Red Hand of Ulster emblazoned across the centre, which is, to borrow a term from another sport, a slam dunk.
It is the flag of this place called Northern Ireland, a place which, despite our own hyper-sensitivity in this area, we seem to dismiss, as if it just wasn't there.
Northern Ireland -- we can hardly even say the words, preferring instead "the North of Ireland", or "the North", or the "Six Counties statelet" or whatever the IRA is calling it these days. Even our main morning news service was inclined to glide over this unfortunate reality, the existence of this place called Northern Ireland which is indeed part of the same land-mass as ourselves, but which does not belong to us, as such.
You may think it is not a very nice place, you may even believe that it is almost entirely full of madmen, but it does actually exist. And Rory McIlroy was born and raised there, walking down that Queen's Highway on his way to old Royal Portrush.
And no, it does not matter that our Golfing Union of Ireland, the GUI, helped to develop Rory's talent. No, that doesn't work.
One of my best friends, a native of Co Wicklow, is a member of the GUI, but that doesn't make any difference to where he is coming from.
For example, Northern Ireland couldn't claim the Wicklow man, just because he belongs to the same union as Rory McIlroy -- that would be too ridiculous, wouldn't it?
Frankly, as far as Rory is concerned, the Republic of Ireland consists of about five golf courses, and they are mighty fine tracks indeed, but then to Rory, every country in the world consists of golf courses, and not much else.
It is his great gift, the way he can transcend all the bullshit which bears down on the rest of the human race, though he comes from Northern Ireland, a place which itself is so deeply in thrall to bullshit, there are 161 press officers attached to the Northern Ireland Executive.
You could say that he embodies some of the classic traits of the Northerner, with his extremism, his fanaticism, his total devotion to his religion, which is golf. But the main thing about Rory, the thing we should be celebrating, is that he is not one of us.
Ultimately he is not even one of them, he is from another dimension.
So when we celebrate these dubious things like his becoming "World Number One", and our ownership of him, it is possible the young man has no idea what we are talking about. All he knows is that next month, he will win the Masters.
And strange as it may seem, that is enough for him.