ROME — Not every American will be disappointed if Europe’s Ryder Cup rout short-circuits the importance of the final day’s singles matches. Certainly not devotees of Taylor Swift, now all but guaranteed that Sunday sports will again be dominated by their idol’s appearance at an NFL game. For that, they ought to thank the formidable performances of Europe’s players and captain, Luke Donald. But this is the most lop-sided contest in Rome since the Christians were drawn at home to the lions at the Colosseum, so the aftermath will almost certainly see less credit for Europe than criticism of the U.S.
The last two U.S. teams that competed over here were balkanized with internal strife. Scotland in 2014 was a week-long squabble between skipper Tom Watson and Phredo Mickelson, his “I’m smart!” detractor. That led to the “task force,” an exercise in shifting responsibility masquerading as group therapy. By Paris in 2018, Jordan Spieth had had enough of Patrick Reed (let he who hasn’t cast the first stone), so Reed aired his grievances about his former partner to the media before Europe had finished its first magnum of celebratory champagne.
In Rome, the U.S. team has traded acrimony for apathy, delivering a performance more befitting the last morning of a buddies’ trip to Myrtle Beach, without the redeeming excuse of thundering hangovers that would at least suggest fun was had along the way. But fun is in woefully short supply for Zach Johnson’s team.
Ryder Cup: Tournament hub | Photos
That can be attributed in part to the unspecified illness that has impacted the U.S. team room, but missing fairways and putts aren’t symptoms of any infection. Sniffles won’t explain how Viktor Hovland and Ludvig Aberg could play the first three holes of alternate shot on Saturday morning in 1-over-par, and win all of them. Mystery bugs can’t account for the U.S. team needing 11 matches before it managed to record an outright victory.
Like many European captains before him, Donald used the ghost of Seve Ballesteros as inspiration this week, but the secret to his success was best summarized by Lucius Seneca, a philosopher who lived across town a couple of millennia ago: “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.”
Donald handled the preparation part himself. The opportunity? Well, that was gifted to him.
Because he replaced the deposed Henrik Stenson as Europe’s captain, Donald had five months fewer to prepare than his counterpart, not an insignificant period of time in a two-year Cup cycle. But he polished the template that guided his predecessors. Messaging was flawless, social media image-making was luminous, unity was air-tight, statistics were plain common sense, pairings were savvy. And like a lot of his forebears in the role, he got some help from the opposition.
Johnson is passionate about both the Ryder Cup and his patriotism. So too are his vice captains. The problem is that the same sentiment isn’t universal in the team room. To be clear, all 12 American players are not apathetic about being here. Most of them care. Most of them care a great deal. But apathy is a deadly contagion in team environments, and it only takes one case. Especially when the going is tough.
Every aspect of Team USA’s preparation and performance was repurposed by Europe to boost their confidence. Like when the U.S. showed up three shy of a full squad on their reconnaissance trip earlier this month, though Spieth had a perfectly valid excuse. Or when nine of the team didn’t compete for a month before coming to Rome. Even the LIV guy checked that box, and they’re supposedly the ones who want to spend more time at home. Or when rumors circulated that every prospective member of Johnson’s squad had signed the agreement stipulating their obligations for the week months ago, except for two, who only recently inked the paper. Or when they heard that some on the U.S. team are skipping group dinners to rest. Or knowing that some Americans are upset about not being paid to play, as though patriotism is just another commercial transaction.
People relentlessly focused on money will always find it difficult to reconcile themselves to giving their time to an unpaid cause, no matter how distinguished, even if only for a few days. The dispiriting impact of the cash arms race in professional golf isn’t only evident in the veterans who are absent this week.
“A noble man compares and estimates himself by an idea that is higher than himself; and a mean man, by one lower than himself,” wrote the ancient Roman emperor, Marcus Aurelius. “The one produces aspiration; the other ambition, which is the way in which a vulgar man aspires.”
Captain Johnson ought to have painted that on the wall of his team room. The mountain facing the U.S. on Sunday is practically insurmountable, made no easier by the perception that not everyone in the line-up shares an equal passion for the challenge. You know who does? You know who isn’t apathetic? Keegan Bradley. But he’s not in the boys club, so he’s watching from his couch in Florida.
