The weight of a celebrated sports parent. Unplanned, yet authentic. Longstanding records reveal the hurdles faced by children of peak performers when attempting to match those peaks. Before Sunday and its thrilling close at Royal Birkdale, Ryan Fox was chiefly identified in New Zealand as Grant's boy. Fox grins when queried if securing the 154th Open Championship has let him build an independent mark of excellence. "I can make a solid argument for that," he responds.

"I have two Claret Jugs [one genuine, one copy] at home so it is tangible but it still does not register fully. I struggle to accept it. My wife and I have exchanged glances often lately and marveled slightly by saying: 'What the hell just happened?' It is unbelievable."

Fox's route has always stood apart. His grandfather Merv Wallace led New Zealand in cricket. Grant's stand-out play and kicking skill as a World Cup-winning All Black keep him admired. Ryan tried both games before settling on golf. "I lacked the mindset for cricket," he notes. "I was the type who raced to 30 fast then fell away. If T20 existed then, I would have excelled."

Importantly, he stayed at ease with himself and his story. Capturing the Open, his debut major, has boosted Fox's standing in a country he still loves.

"I grew up with Dad being hailed on the street," he says. "When I played rugby it proved tough as I faced constant comparison. I was unwise; chose the same spot and aimed at kicks. I did not aid my cause.

"I faced no demand to excel in sport. It was simply my choice. I enjoyed sport, was raised around it, wished to compete. When I began succeeding in amateur golf some notice grew due to Dad but it never troubled me.

"I cannot tell if it is inherited or acquired but something must exist. Dad caddied often during my amateur days and early pro years. A figure who handled pressure by kicking goals adapts well to golf. Both rely on habits, a still ball and self-starting. I kept a sports psychologist available always. I did not always heed advice but enough stuck.

"Winning the first World Cup, given rugby's hold in New Zealand, still seems tough to top. You cannot equate it directly [to an Open win]. Representing New Zealand in cricket during the 1940s and 50s mattered greatly, with fewer Tests then, yet my grandfather built a fine record. Debate may follow. I simply hope last weekend's event ranks as a fine moment for New Zealand sport."

Indeed it does. This marks Ryan's personal story. We chat as Fox prepares to fly from Florida to Auckland, carrying the Claret Jug as carry-on. "It will be a busy visit and truly enjoyable," he says. "We kept the return quiet from New Zealand. I had no plans to compete soon and staying in Florida while others played elsewhere would have felt odd. It seemed right to share this with friends, family and media at home while fresh. I had eyed a late November trip but that would have lacked impact.

"I have a long list of friends eager to sip from the Claret Jug. Dad wants the same, as rugby custom favors drinking from trophies. I may get only one chance so it feels right to display it widely. I aim to savor this fully. My life in New Zealand may shift but that comes with it.

"I recall Michael Campbell's 2005 US Open win clearly. The nation paused. As a golf follower it was the finest sight. It feels odd that something similar has now happened to me."

Obstacles marked Fox's path to Open success. Though a natural links player - he entered the Irish Open and claimed the Dunhill Links Championship - Fox's history in the oldest major stayed modest until Birkdale. "I could never string four rounds," he says. "One might claim I still have not since Thursday was ordinary. Yet I am not unhappy." Fox ended two over par and seven behind after the first round.

Move ahead to Sunday afternoon and the 15th, a risky par three. Fox's iron rebounds off the bunker face into a tough spot beneath the lip. The game tested a player in new territory.

"It sat a yard from ideal," says Fox. "Links golf works that way. I knew before reaching the ball it was poor. The commentators' reactions showed it. I felt almost relieved it was too near the lip to attempt escape. One can appear foolish trying such shots on knees under strain."

Fox played backwards for a bogey four that lifted his outlook. Focus elsewhere helped, with Bryson DeChambeau drawing attention. Tommy Fleetwood did too. When crowds turned to Fox he stayed in his zone and gallery size faded.

The 18th became Fox's defining hole. A 330-yard drive, an approach inside 12ft and a firm putt. He appeared composed. "I recall it all yet it feels unreal," he says. "It does not fit if I try to relive it. It was like an out-of-body moment.

"I felt nerves over the last putt. My hands shook and I had to steady myself after reaching the green and seeing a putt to win the Open. I am unsure how I managed."

Fox's win drew broad praise. His simple style and easy manner charm. Surfer Kelly Slater sent notes. "Ronan Keating messaged and Mum was thrilled," Fox adds. "It has been unreal and I have not cleared my emails. I answer some then check again to find more. The backing has been huge.

"Justin Thomas offered the best tip. He congratulated me and advised noting every detail for future recall. That seemed a fine point from one who has lived it."

A tough but common golf pattern is that major winners face questions on repeating. Multiple winners gain more respect. "My caddie put it well Sunday night after drinks. 'Foxy, you may get only one chance at a major-winning putt and you sank it,'" Fox says. "I know I can repeat and would like another shot. If not, I stay one from one.

"I never dreamed of this. Hopefully more lies ahead but if not I can feel proud." As can his country. Ryan Fox has written his own chapter.