Europe’s Shane Lowry sprays champagne after winning the 2025 Ryder Cup at Bethpage Black Golf Course in Farmingdale, N.Y., on Sept. 28. (PETER CASEY PHOTO)
This is not a commentary on who won. It’s a reflection on what was lost.
The Ryder Cup has long been more than a contest — it’s been a covenant of civility, restraint, and shared reverence for the game. This year, something sacred was bruised.
I offer this piece not as a provocation, but as a plea: that we remember what makes sport worthy of our attention and respect. Because sport, at its best, is a mirror — reflecting not just how we compete, but who we are.
The scoreboard told one story: a European triumph. But beneath the numbers, something older — more sacred — was bruised.
Golf, the game of quiet rituals and shared restraint, was made to kneel before the gods of noise — and the machinery of corporate buildup and greed.
The Ryder Cup, once a preserve of gentlemanly rivalry, became a coliseum of chants, chest-thumps, and partisan theatre. The fairway narrowed — not by trees, but by tribal fervour. Players postured. Crowds provoked. The game, meant to model grace under pressure, was reduced to theatre — less about grace under pressure, and more about performance under provocation.
Yes, the Europeans played brilliantly. Their victory was earned. And the Americans, too, rose to the occasion in Sunday’s singles matches — playing with grit, precision, and pride. But the game itself — the ethos, the atmosphere, the shared stewardship — was overtaken by a spectacle that mistook noise for nobility, and indulged in rudeness, boorishness, and even moments of profane and dehumanizing behaviour.
