Stephanie's Wei:
U.S. Team shows passion for Ryder Cup – The 2010 Ryder Cup
I'd be lying if I said that following Europe's third session routing I wholeheartedly believed the U.S. team had a chance to overcome the three-point deficit going into singles. And notwithstanding the three extremely optimistic American fans , neither did anyone else. But the first-ever Monday finish in the history of the biennial matches produced the most thrilling Ryder Cup in recent memory, largely thanks to the valiant effort by the Americans to almost stage a ridiculous comeback. Up until Monday, heavy rain, mud, long delays, format revisions, leaky rain suits and golf bags had turned the event into a comedy of errors. For the pomp and circumstance surrounding this year's Ryder Cup, it was turning into a huge joke and seeming more like a circus or horrific fashion show rather than a golf tournament.
With the exception of Captain Corey, the Americans became lovable losers for their fight on the golf course -- and then their emotion and passion in the press conference. The Europeans, led by the Magnificent Colin Montgomerie, showed personality, fire and heroics were deserving and respected winners. Even Sergio Garcia, who served as a vice-captain, was a charming leader.
Just a few hours earlier with mostly blue flags on the leaderboard, it looked like it was going to be over before the bell rang at the New York Stock Exchange. I half-jokingly told a friend not to bother rushing home from the airport to watch, but rather just heading to the bar to ease the agony of a European blowout. And boy, was I wrong. For some reason, it was largely believed that American players -- whose pockets are fat with cash and a tough day is when their courtesy car turns out to be a Honda instead of a Mercedes -- didn't care about the Ryder Cup. But they proved the naysayers wrong, showing they do, in fact, care, and have a lot of heart.
What took place in those last hours were straight-up storybook, you know, the stuff that reminds us why we watch and care about sport in the first place.
Down three with four to play, Rickie Fowler, who trailed since the opening hole, traded birdies with Edoardo Molinari on the 15th to stay alive and then birdied the next two to cut the lead to 1-up going into 18. Fowler needed to birdie to keep the Americans going. He knew it. With a 25-footer for birdie to win the hole and halve the match, the 21-year-old stepped up fearlessly and slid the putt in for that important half point.
It was a defining moment. Up until that point, Fowler had contributed a half point, but his play was pretty forgettable. With the one putt, though, it turned him into a hero. It also justified Fowler's being picked in the first place and saved Captain Dud from receiving a beating from the press and public, not to mention steered attention away from Pavin's passionless presence.
With Phil Mickelson defeating Peter Hanson and Zach Johnson besting Padraig Harrington — and then Fowler’s half point — suddenly, the Americans had pulled to even with Europe at 13 1/2 points apiece. That left the fate of the Ryder Cup to the final match and the only one still on the course, between Graeme McDowell and Hunter Mahan.
McDowell, the reigning US Open champion, looked to be relishing the opportunity to take center stage and controlled the match for its duration. Meanwhile, Mahan struggled to find his rhythm. It was just one of those days that the putts weren’t dropping. Two down with four to play, Mahan made his first birdie of the day on 15 to cut McDowell’s lead to one-up with three to play. But McDowell came up huge with a birdie on 16.
Mahan needed magic on 17 to extend the match, but his tee shot on the par-3 17th came up short, while McDowell was safely on the green. With the weight of the Ryder Cup resting heavily on his shoulders, Mahan had to chip in, but unfortunately, nerves got to the best of him and he duffed it. McDowell's putt was conceded to win the match 3&1 over Mahan. Which also meant a full point and Europe taking back the Cup.
Gut-wrenching to watch, the post-match team press conference humanized the tearful Mahan, as well as the veteran leaders Stewart Cink, Phil Mickelson, Steve Stricker and Jim Furyk in a way that their greatest victories never had before.
One of the first to be asked for his impressions, Mahan was so distraught that he could hardly muster but a few words. "Well, I'm just proud to be a part of this team," he sputtered. "It's a close team, and..." Sitting to the left, Mickelson came to the rescue and answered the question. Five-or-so minutes later, another reporter put Mahan on the spot again. Mickelson, once again, took the microphone and offered comic relief. "Let's go to another one," he quipped. "Yes, in the blue, back there. Go on, Lad."
Mickelson, who past Raymond Floyd as the American Ryder Cupper with the most career losses (17) also admirably called himself out for his miserable performance, notwithstanding his victory in singles over Peter Hanson, and shouldered some of the blame. "When I didn't win any of my first three points, I felt more disappointment than I've ever felt, because this is an opportunity for us to win here in Europe," he said. "And so the fact that we came so close, and I let some of these opportunities to gain points for our team slide."
While Stricker and Furyk also backed Mahan with their own compassionate and inspiring words, Cink stepped in to deliver the most passionate and eloquent comments of anyone on the American squad that week.
"If you go up-and-down the line of the Tour players in Europe and U.S. and asked them if you would like to be the last guy to decide The Ryder Cup, probably less than half would say they would like to be that guy and probably less than ten per cent of them would mean it," he said.
"Hunter Mahan put himself in that position today. He was, as a man on our team, to put himself in that position, all right. It's a selfish spot in the game of golf, and Hunter Mahan performed like a champ out there today, all right. And I think it's awesome. Not many players would want to do that. I'm sorry, I just wanted to add something to that before we stop."
Not surprisingly, all Captain Dud could offer was, "Well said, Stewart."
Ever graceful and humanized in defeat, the losingest of losers were redeemed by something from the week, whether it was their leadership, attitude or on-course efforts. Well, almost.
From the start (and in the past few months), Captain Dud was defensive, uninspiring and awkward. Whenever a mic was within an ear shot of him, I cringed in anticipation of the uncomfortable moment and hoped not to fall into a deep sleep. At the opening ceremony, he forgot to introduce Stewart Cink. The team forced laughs while the crowd laughed at Pavin.
In the pairings announcement, emcee Di Stewart asked Pavin, "Why did you select Tiger to play the third match?" Pavin replied in a patronizing tone something like, "Because the first two were filled." Though the lovely Stewart, who was trying to do her job, handled it well, it was just rude. Perhaps it wasn't meant to be, but Pavin couldn't find a way to translate his paranoid, uptight captaining style without coming across like a prickly little man.
Captain America lacked wit, humor and fire. Simply assessing the little we were presented, I questioned his ability to rally and lead the team. I wished someone would tell him, "You know, you're at the Ryder Cup and not the Pentagon, right?" All week I tried to be fair, reminding myself that I didn't know what was happening in the team room -- perhaps he transformed into the most passionate and cleverest leader in the world. I highly doubted it, and now, according to my colleagues, Pavin was just as lifeless as we assumed.
Nicknamed "bulldog" for his gritty, competitive nature on the golf course, he showed none of those characteristics in Wales. Underneath the stern exterior, Pavin has a fiery side. I've witnessed it -- at the US Senior Open at Sahalee this summer, I watched him strike his bag with a club in frustration and throw a tantrum at a bunker, kicking the sand like it was at fault for his poor shot (not as bad as Sergio at the PGA, but close). Perhaps Captain Dud was afraid to reveal the boiling passion and in his effort to appear cool, he came across as condescending and paternalistic.
Apparently, Pavin drafted his singles roster on Saturday evening and refused to budge despite Sunday's dreadful results. It was peculiar he chose Stricker/Woods to play in one of two foursomes matches in the third session. He paired Dustin Johnson and Phil Mickelson together because Phil wanted to play with DJ and Pavin didn't have the backbone to question it. Pairing two wild bombs with such contrasting approaches -- Mickelson analyzes every possible component to death, while Johnson just gets his yardage and grabs a club -- sounds like a recipe for disaster.
But honestly, the pairings and choices didn't really bother me. What's completely inexcusable are the leaky rain suits and golf bags (towels were soaked because water was coming through the pockets). I thought this was the Ryder Cup, not amateur hour.
Captain Dud waxed poetic about how hard the Captainess had worked on designing the uniforms and organizing the odds and ends, like her decision to go with a vintage look for everything from the lavishly embroidered Sun Mountain rain gear to the bags. For goodness sake, when playing in Wales in October, impervious rain suits are the most important thing -- to the point where they should have been tested before the charter plane left Atlanta and if that means putting them on and jumping in the shower, then so bet it. Seemingly minor details have an impact on moral. Perhaps big enough to cost, oh I don't know, say, half a point.
Meanwhile, Colin Montgomerie was Captain Charisma. In short, he was witty and engaging with the media and crowds, and most important, in the team room he was inspiring and spirited. Heck, Monty was so delightful that many Americans (including yours truly) were thrilled to see him win.
"This is one of the finest moments … no, hang on," Montgomerie said for punch . "This is the greatest moment of my golfing career."
If Monty is the modern-day Churchill, then Pavin is a cross between Herbert Hoover and Richard Nixon.
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Stephanie Wei
steph.wei@gmail.com
http://weiunderpar.com
Twitter: @stephaniewei
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