O-lé, Olé, Olé, Olé

Alright, already.  I’ve heard enough your damn song. I get it.  The Euros won the Ryder Cup.

It was the most magical sporting event I’ve ever been too, and I wasn’t even there on Sunday.  I did make it there Saturday though.  The last time I felt that electricity in a venue was the 2009 Winter Classic at Wrigley Field.  Whether it was pumping up Bubba on the first tee, yelling “War Eagle” on every Dufner tee shot, or watching the great Ian Poulter hole putt after putt, it was pretty special.  It helps that Medinah Country Club was in pristine condition.  When Davis Love III demanded the rough be cut, we all knew the Ryder Cup would become a birdie-fest.  Right, we were.  The conditions were way easier than when I played in June.  That’s a different story for a different day. 

However, the day that we will all remember – and that anyone is talking about – is Sunday.  It’s easy to second guess DLIII.  I have.  Tiger Woods should not have been the 12th man.  We learned that lesson in 2002 at the Belfry.  But that’s not why the Americans lost.  Not playing Phil and Keegan on Saturday afternoon is also not why the Americans lost.  Maybe Furyk and Stricker weren’t the best captains picks?  But that’s not the main reason either.

The Euros played better on Sunday.  That’s it.  That’s the only reason.

Each line up was front-loaded.  The Euro lineup a little more front-loaded than the Americans, but that didn’t matter much.  In the end, Donald, Rose, McIlroy, and Poulter closed strong.  Bubba, Webb, Keegan, and Phil did not. That was it.  Ballgame.

Even the hottest golfer on the planet, Brandt Snedeker, got pasted by Paul Lawrie.

Even Lee Westwood, who was the worst Euro golfer this past weekend, earned a singles win.

The Euros just played better when it mattered.  Period.  I’m just sad that it happened on my home turf.  It was the worst case scenario on what was arguably one of our best weekends.  And one of my best weekends too.