Europe outgunned
Even before Peter Willett niggled at American sensibilities with his accurate, if somewhat ill conceived comments, this Ryder Cup was always going to be a big ask. Wounded American pride, allied to home advantage and a team brim full of powerful golfers, Europe was going to need more than their legendary team spirit to triumph. And when on Friday they lost all four opening foursomes, the task thereafter was akin to climbing Everest with their legs tied together. Yes they gave it their best shot but in the end it was America’s strength in depth that ensured they prevailed. Which, in some ways, is a good thing following eight years of European dominance.
It has been suggested that this dominance was in danger of turning the Ryder Cup into a non event. If it was, then that sentiment never reached the players whose intensity was all too apparent over the opening two days of the contest. That atmosphere continued into the top half of the draw on Sunday but when the final blow was struck it was a strangely muted affair.
Two golfers were vying for that plaudit. The first was Dustin Johnson who at 17 missed a six foot put in his match v Chris Wood that would have given him a 2&1 victory. He would go on to win 1up but by then had been beaten to the tape by Ryan Moore who was up against wild card pick Lee Westwood.
Poor Westwood. The previous evening partnering the equally out sorts Danny Willett, he had entered the final three holes with a lead. But by 18 he and Willett were 1 down. Only a birdie would salvage a half. In fairness to both Brits they put their approach shots to 18 close, Westwood to within three feet. In some ways it was too close. Had he left himself a putt of six feet the pressure would have been reduced but at three feet it was immense. To my mind it would have been better had he putted first but they stuck with convention. When Willett missed you knew Westwood would do likewise. A minute later he did, coming out of his putt early and leaking it right. He looked shell shocked as he walked from the green.
Some twenty four hours later Westwood found himself back in the nightmare world of meltdown, this time playing by himself against Moore. Leading by two on the 16th tee he arrived at the 18th all square requiring at least a par to halve. Bunker from the tee. Greenside bunker with his second. Sand shot to 18 feet, Missed putt. Excruciating five. Meanwhile Moore put his approach shot to within ten feet of the flag from where he had the luxury of two putts to claim the Ryder Cup. His first effort was timid but it dribbled into the ring of friendship - and that was it. After a brief time lapse the Americans suddenly realised that they had won and the celebrations began. I know you were overcome Bubber, but I hope the tears have finally subsided.
Though the margin of victory was large (17-11) no one can deny that the encounter was anything but enthralling. At times the quality of the golf, under the most intense pressure, was remarkable. Ninety six birdies were recorded on Saturday and come Sunday the birdies kept flowing, none more so than in the game between Phil Mickelson and Sergio Garcia. Mickelson managed ten which was good enough to secure a half against the Spaniard. How can it be that in the cauldron of Ryder Cup Matchplay Garcia thrives, yet has put it on record that he will never win a major.
The game of golf prides itself on moral rectitude but for a time during the opening two days the Ryder Cup was in danger of tarnishing that image. Thank fully, come Sunday, a modicum of restraint was restored although some of the antics by Patrick Reed, in his opening match with Rory McIlroy, were in danger of reversing that trend. By the end of their remarkable encounter however, calm had been restored and in fairness to Reed he did play brilliantly and deserved his win.
Talk to any of the participants and they will say that there is nothing quite like the Ryder Cup. This last weekend at Hazeltine has done nothing to diminish that view.
©Mark Brennand