Sports viewing often soothes the soul, but there’s going to be nothing tranquil about the transatlantic clash when the USA “welcome” Europe to the Big Apple’s battleground.
People watch sports for all sorts of reasons.
I once had a conversation with a lady who religiously watched the Tour de France every July but couldn’t name more than a handful of the cyclists.
It was the scenery she loved, the sweeping aerial shots of the majestic French countryside and mountains, the monasteries, castles, and châteaux that dot the landscape, and the elaborate displays that farmers and communities spend countless hours putting together, all for five or 10 seconds of broadcast before the peloton sweep past. It brought her a sense of calm, she explained.
It’s the same with golf. People watch who couldn’t care less about the birdies and bogeys being made – they’re there for the surfers in Hawaii, for Africa’s big-five at Leopard Creek, for the dog having the time of its life as it frolics among the waves in Scotland or Ireland, and for the toddler with a plastic club who hacks at the grass, blissfully oblivious to the fact that some of the greatest exponents of the game are doing it right in front of them.
And they watch because, unlike most other sports, the crowds clap for every good shot. Sure, they have their favourites, and some cheers are louder than others, but every holed putt, every close chip, every dialled-in approach is appreciated. It’s one of the things that makes golf a great spectator sport, and for those without a specific dog in the fight, it’s nice to see people being nice to each other.
But niceties go out the window at the Ryder Cup.
At the Ryder Cup, even iconic backdrops like the New York skyline or the Statue of Liberty will take a backseat to the raw competition and Bethpage State Park’s wildlife will only serve to highlight the contrast between the four-legged animals and the two-legged ones because, for those watching, it’s all about the action, and there’ll be no room for nicety.
In this charged environment, good shots from one side are often met with stony silence, and anything bad-to-worse can elicit sheer delight. Is it sporting? Definitely not, but who cares? If it became commonplace week-to-week, it would be a different story. But the Ryder Cup is no ordinary week, no ordinary event, and it all adds to the drama as the galleries become the effective 13th man.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not advocating for intentional shouts on a player’s backswing, or personal insults hurled from outside the ropes, but I’m all for willing various putts into the hole and others out.
And matchplay, of course, lends itself perfectly to that because each hole, each match, each point is crucial, and what’s more, the fans know this. They know that the energy and momentum from one match can feed into the next, and momentum, as we’ve seen time and again in past Ryder Cups, is a powerful weapon.
Matchplay fuels the drama, because it’s one of golf’s great equalisers, and as a result, it produces unlikely heroes. And who doesn’t love a good underdog story?
Take Constantino Rocca, for example. Though he’d played in the two previous Ryder Cups, he’d lost both of his singles matches and was given virtually no chance when he drew Tiger Woods on the final day at Valderrama in 1997.
They’d teed it up in the same field on four previous occasions that year, and Woods held a 4-0 lead, with Rocca’s best performance in the four being a T5 finish at The Masters – a full 15 shots behind Tiger. Yet, the stoutly-shaped Italian tamed the Big Cat, winning 4&2, and though every point is crucial in a Ryder Cup, when Europe ran out 14.5-13.5 winners, you had to look no further than Rocca’s shock humbling of the American phenom to find Europe’s hero on the final day.
Rocca never featured in a European side after that, so, as Ryder Cup farewells go, with captain Seve Ballesteros the first to congratulate him afterwards, they don’t come much better than that.
You don’t have to go back that far, of course. Take Thorbjørn Olesen, in his only Ryder Cup appearance, dismantling Jordan Spieth 5&4 at Le Golf National in 2018, or Viktor Hovland and Ludvig Åberg – the latter who’d only been a pro for three months – dishing out the mother of all Ryder Cup beatings to world number one Scottie Scheffler and stone-cold killer Brooks Koepka in Rome two years ago.
But these underdog triumphs happened on home soil for Europe, with the vast, vast majority of support firmly in their corner. It’ll be a different story at Bethpage. The New York crowd and their penchant for vocal support of their own and hostility to others has been a major talking point ever since it was announced that the Ryder Cup was heading there over a decade ago.
Is it a stereotype? Sure, but most stereotypes are grounded in at least a semblance of truth, and since most of the U.S. fans in attendance – regardless of where they’re from – will be labelled “New Yorkers” for the week, then they’re given something of a free pass to reach fresh decibel heights because it’s what’s expected of them.
They’ll not just live up to the “New Yorker” reputation, they’ll go well beyond it, and it’s not like the fans at Hazeltine in 2016 or Whistling Straits in 2021 were the meek, politely applauding sort either.
They’ll do everything in their power to ensure that the European side are very conscious of the fact that they’re on enemy territory, but in equal measure, they expect great things from their own and if they’re not getting what they want, they’re quick to let them know.
With this intense setting, this is shaping up to be one of the all-time Ryder Cups, but if you’re into watching golf for the all-round love, maybe you might want to sit this one out.
And I don’t think the peaceful, French countryside-loving woman I mentioned earlier will be tuning in.
The above feature appeared in the 2025-7 edition or Irish Golfer. To view the full edition click below
