Such a strange event, the Ryder Cup. A team competition in one of the ultimate individual sports. A supposed rivalry between Europe and the United States, even though we’re as familiar with the foreigners as we are the Americans. Of the 24 players, Luke Donald has more Chicago in him than any of them. If the United States battled, say, Iran in the Ryder Cup, or the Soviet Union back in the day, it might be easier to understand the emotions, both from the players and the fans.
Yet Sunday afternoon, I barely moved from my couch for seven hours and I watched only a handful of NFL action. When Martin Kaymer drained his final putt I slapped my hands in frustration and let out a “Damn it,” that the neighbors might have heard if they weren’t still loudly chanting for Tim Tebow. The Ryder Cup almost always produces memorable moments, and every so often it delivers epic ones. Some Ryder Cup results are forgotten a week after Johnny Miller utters his final words, but others live on forever. We all know where the 2012 Cup falls.
Some final thoughts after watching those damn Europeans — oh, those damn Europeans with their flags, chants and American residencies — rally in historic fashion.