I knew the Ryder Cup was very exciting because I spent long periods standing up watching it.
It’s not that we don’t have any furniture in the house but when it gets really tense, I don’t feel the need to sit down!
Today was the singles competition where all 12 European players play individual games against their American counterparts.
Europe was far enough ahead for me not to have to worry unduly but when it comes to golf, my glass is usually half empty.
What, or rather who, won it for my money was Rory McIlroy.
McIlroy was drawn to play the brilliant young American Rickie Fowler. I expected a tight tussle, maybe a grind right to the end because Fowler has been brilliant so far and McIlroy is the best player on the planet. Well, what did I know?
What I witnessed was Mike Tyson against his early opponents, Phil Taylor in his pomp, Shergar prior to becoming corned beef, Brazil against a Sunday pub side. It was brutal in its ruthlessness. McIlroy had hold of Fowler by the throat, not literally, and strangled the golfing life out of the young lad. I was constantly catching my breath at the powerful beauty of it.
The young Northern Irishman had come out and had his game face on. Nothing would faze him, it was the most astonishing display of great golf I have ever seen.
When that game was over, I knew in my heart it was all over, that the Americans wouldn’t come back.
I managed then to sit down a bit and relax. When the victory came, I sat there grinning like a Cheshire cat as the home team tipped gallons of Moet down their necks and, somewhat wastefully, over each other!
I now think that the Ryder Cup is the greatest sporting event on the planet. It’s like nothing else in golf and the make up of participants is not replicated in any other sport.
If the Little Englanders of UKIP get their way we probably won’t be allowed to play anymore.
