Golf Legends Share Their Opinion on The 2025 Ryder Cup
Uh New York also home to uh the RDER Cup this past weekend. What’s your opinion of the golf? Let’s start with the golf first up, Scott, on that. Europe was amazing. Uh they’re better at this than than the United States and they’ve demonstrated that for this entire century, if you will. Golf legends are finally breaking their silence on the 2025 Ryder Cup. And what they’re saying could change how the world sees the game forever. But behind the headlines and apologies, there’s a deeper story. One the cameras didn’t catch and the players won’t discuss. I’ve uncovered the details and they’re not what you expect. Beth Paige didn’t echo with polite claps. It erupted in chaos. And Golf’s old guard, those stoic faces who once defined the game’s quiet dignity, suddenly had a lot to say. Tom Watson, who has led the US into Rder Cup battle and lived through its fiercest rivalries, didn’t couch his words. He went public saying, “I am ashamed.” The crowd behavior, heckling, vulgar chance, a cup flung near Rory Mroyy’s family, wasn’t spirited. It was a stain. When the man who gave golf some of its most dignified moments calls out his own country’s fans, the sport listens. And the PGA of America had to follow suit with its CEO offering direct apologies to Mroy, his family, and several European players. In golf terms, that’s the equivalent of the Vatican issuing a press release. For legends who grew up believing silence was part of golf’s sacred code, Beth Paige felt like a cathedral defiled. “This isn’t football,” one retired pro growled on ESPN’s panel. “We used to teach etiquette before Swing Speed. And that’s the core of it. This wasn’t about one rowdy crowd. It was about values.” Watson’s shame transformed a bad night into a reckoning. It reframed the debate from bad apples to a systemic lapse. A question of whether golf can still command respect when its biggest stage looks more like a stadium brawl. Try to make it an amazing experience, Gary. Um, and you know, these guys have all the money in the world. They’re making so much money. Every one of them uh that it’s not about money anymore. And and we felt we were really given a strategic uh gift by the by the by the by the American team uh pursuing, you know, the 200 grand stip end uh because we were everything that to counter that. We we were everything the opposite. While America unraveled in noise, Europe played chess in silence. The calm and the chaos had a name, Luke Donald. If the crowd was the storm, Donald was the still eye inside it. His second consecutive Rder Cup win after leading Europe to glory in 2023 turned his quiet reputation into legend. The old guard adored it. Paul McInley, the philosopher of Ryder Cup captains, praised Donald’s ego-free environment. There were no showboating stars, no drama, just disciplined pairings, psychological preparation, and trust. It was golf’s answer to Zen warfare. Even Sky Sports veteran Euan Murray couldn’t hide his awe, calling Donald’s poise surgical. While American pundits screamed about analytics and pairings, European legends nodded knowingly. This is how it’s supposed to be done. Donald didn’t just win matches. He restored an old faith. That method beats mania. That calm leadership can tame even Beth Paige. To golf’s elders, Donald’s team looked like a time capsule from a purer era. They weren’t influencers in spikes. They were soldiers of discipline. He built a wall of trust, McInley said. And America broke themselves against it. In a weekend where fans forgot civility, Donald’s composure became its own rebellion. He didn’t silence the crowd. He simply outlasted it. And then there was the showman, Bryson Desambo, the chaos scientist, the muscle with a PhD in drama. On Sunday, down five through seven holes against Matt Fitzpatrick, Bryson did what Bryson does. He made the impossible look inevitable. His comeback to have the match didn’t change the cup’s outcome, but it changed the energy. Veteran commentators called it match play theater. That’s the Ryder Cup distilled emotion as strategy, adrenaline as currency. The US bench suddenly came alive for 10 glorious holes. Beth Paige felt like a revival. He brought oxygen back into the room. One former captain said on NBC’s postgame panel, “Old pros loved it, even as they shook their heads. It was chaos but pure. The kind of unfiltered golf that reminds you why this tournament exists. Not for stat sheets but for spine. They compared it to Medina 2012. Another moment when belief flipped the script, if only briefly. For Europe, it was a test of containment. The legend saw Donald’s team absorb that surge without panic. A lesson in composure as performance art. The match itself became metaphor. The new golf era’s flash versus the old golf soul. And somewhere between the chance, the noise, and the comeback, the legends saw what they’d been missing. That rare edge where madness meets mastery. Uh I think one of the biggest mistakes that excuse me, the American Rder Cup team always seems to make or the PJ of America is they go to courses that we’re not familiar with. Kiwa, same way. K. No way. For people that know like Kio is this a legendary resort now it wasn’t even on the map. Paul when the postmortem began one name lingered like a hangover. Scotty Sheffller the world’s number one. The face of calm precision suddenly looked rattled mortal even haunted. He was supposed to be the US anchor. Instead he became its weather vein. And when Sheffler shook the whole house shuddered. G’s elder voices didn’t hold back. You can’t have your top man playing like he’s in quicksand,” one veteran said on Golf Channel. Another whispered what everyone knew. Sheffller looked lonely. His pairings felt awkward, mismatched energy, strange chemistry. Analysts blamed Captain Keegan Bradley’s choices, the algorithmic pairings that forgot human rhythm. Meanwhile, Europe looked synchronized, like a choir that had rehearsed every breath. Donald’s team had bonded, prayed, plotted. The US looked like they just met at baggage claim. It was golf’s version of a super team implosion. Legendary captains like Paul Azinger pointed out that the RDER Cup isn’t about talent. It’s about temperament. If the chemistry is off, even gods miss fairways, he said. And that was Sheffler. Still brilliant, still number one, but unmed. The crowd’s vitriol didn’t help either. What was supposed to be his fortress became an echo chamber of frustration to the sports veterans. It was the ultimate irony. The man who had conquered majors undone by noise and mismatched vibes. They forgot its match play. One analyst side, not a math problem. Beth Page was supposed to crown America’s finest. Instead, it exposed its cracks and reminded legends everywhere that leadership isn’t about metrics. It’s about mojo. Perhaps the deepest concern from legends went beyond match results. A reckoning over the game’s culture and standards. Many elders insisted Beth Page exposed cracks in how golf manages crowd control, withdrawals, and event protocols. They urged more formal codes and consequences, not just on paper, but enforcable. Jack Nicholas and other senior voices recounted eras when legends would silence a rowdy gallery with quiet authority. They warned if golf doesn’t institutionalize protections now, the excesses will metastasize. Some called for match referees to carry real power to eject or sanction miscreant fans. Others pushed for new rules on spectator behavior liability, distancing, and family protection. Another thread, how to manage player family interfaces. The Mroy and others had their personal space violated. That struck many legends as intolerable. They urged structural safeguards so families aren’t collateral damage and crowd fervor. Also, they questioned what the withdrawal rules might become, citing concerns about ill or injured players and how these get handled under crowd and media pressure. In their view, Beth Page should be a turning point. Tradition must not become an excuse for laxity. The sport needs to balance spectacle and decorum, ensuring that crowd passion doesn’t drown player dignity. Legends see this as a moment where golf must choose. Evolve enforcement or risk eroding its moral foundation. Now that the chance have faded and the beer’s been scrubbed off the turf, the legends are left with a single sobering question. What will Beth Paige be remembered for? The score line says, “Europe triumphed again.” But in the collective memory of golf’s elders, this Rder Cup will be remembered as the weekend golf lost its manners. Luke Donald’s composed captaincy drew near universal praise. “Cool under fire,” said Faldo. “A class act,” echoed Langanger. Yet their admiration came laced with disappointment that Donald had to lead amid disorder rather than competition. On the US side, Keegan Bradley’s defiance earned respect, even from those who disagreed with him. His emotional plea for reform gave the cup’s chaos a purpose. Still, the overarching theme from the legends was clear. Beth Paige must be a turning point. Watson’s apology, Nicholas’s warning, Faldo’s critiques, all sounded like a chorus of reluctant custodians realizing the game’s culture had changed without their permission. “This isn’t about noise,” Watson said. “It’s about respect. If the Ryder Cup learns from Beth Page, it may rediscover its spirit. If not, 2025 will stand as the year the world’s most elegant rivalry traded civility for spectacle. The legends have spoken, not to shame the fans, but to remind golf what it’s supposed to be. So there it is, the cup that made the world cheer, flinch, and apologize. From beer throwing chaos to rulebook debates, Beth Paige will echo for years. But as the legends keep saying, passion isn’t the problem. Memory is. Because if golf forgets its etiquette, no trophy will ever shine bright enough.
Golf Legends Share Their Opinion on The 2025 Ryder Cup
Related Posts
