The leading Irish golfer of his generation, Michael Moran won the Irish Professional Championship five years in succession from 1909 to 1913 until his career was cruelly cut short by World War l. Harry Warren pays tribute, not alone to Moran the golfer, but to the man he is immensely proud was his grand-uncle.

Before the world knew his name, Michael Moran was just a nimble-footed lad darting across the wild grass and tidal drains of Dublin’s Bull Island. With homemade clubs and boundless energy, he turned the sand dunes and dykes into his own private playground.

He wasn’t chasing birds or mischief he was rehearsing for greatness.

He earned the nickname ‘Dyke’ for his habit of vaulting over the marshy channels or dykes around the sand dunes. Even then, there was something different about him — a spark in his step, a look of purpose beyond his years.

Born on the 6th of May, 1886, in a small cottage at Curley’s Yard, on Bull Island, cradled between what would one day become the 3rd and 13th holes of Royal Dublin Golf Club. The scent of salt air, the sound of seabirds, and the shimmer of fairways were his first lullabies.
His family, like many in Clontarf, lived simply and worked hard. But golf was part of the island’s soul, as natural as the tides. And for young Michael, it was always there, waiting, whispering, calling him on.

Moran didn’t discover golf. He grew up inside it. As a young boy, he caddied for members, studied their swings, and took every free moment to copy what he’d seen using scraps and imagination. The marshlands were his classroom, the wind his coach, and the open sky his roof.

In his teenage years, he took work at Dundalk Golf Club. There, his sharp eye and natural rhythm, earned quiet admiration. But home called, and by 1907, he was back in Royal Dublin not as a caddie this time, but as the assistant to the club’s professional, Tom Hood.

That same year, at just 21, he was elected the first chairman of the Irish Professional Golfers’ Association a sign that even among seasoned men, his voice carried weight.
He was a man of contrasts. On the course, he was fiercely competitive, known for playing at a blistering pace. Off it, he was generous and grounded. Those who watched him often spoke of the fire behind his game.

“I do not know how I play the strokes, all I know is that the ball is there and that I hit it.” He could lose his temper over a bad shot and forgive himself by the next hole. His swing had both power and finesse. His confidence was real but never boastful.

Then came the winning. From 1909 to 1913, Moran ruled Irish golf like a king in soft shoes. He won the Irish Professional Championship five years in a row — a feat no one has since matched.
1909 Champion at Royal County Down
1910 Triumphant at Royal Dublin with stunning rounds of 72 and 70
1911 Victory at Royal Portrush
1912 Took the title at Castlerock
1913 Sealed his legacy at Portmarnock

Every victory added to his legend. But Moran wasn’t only content with dominating at home. He brought Irish pride abroad, competing against the best with boldness and belief.
In 1909, he faced off against the mighty Harry Vardon in Delgany. Though Vardon won 3 & 2, the contest was described in glowing terms across newspapers. Moran had gone toe to toe with a legend. A year later, he bested Ted Ray, the reigning Open Champion, on Irish soil. He didn’t just belong at the top; he proved Ireland did too.

Continue reading in this week’s Ireland’s Own