Showdown E-Book

Iain Carter

• Herausgeber: Elliott & Thompson
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Seitenzahl: 506

Beschreibung

With a foreword by Graeme McDowell and afterword by Colin Montgomerie The Ryder Cup is one of the world's most dramatic sporting events. Tensions were running high in the build-up to the 2014 tournament. Following the 'Miracle' at Medinah that saw Europe take the trophy in 2012, the Americans tried to end their losing run by turning to legendary veteran Ryder Cup hero Tom Watson as captain. Put under pressure to respond, the Europeans bet on a diminutive stalwart touring pro, Paul McGinley, a team man and an astute tactician. It was a fight between acumen and aura. Acumen won. On this occasion the European triumph was not miraculous; it was meticulous, the product of an extraordinarily detailed plan that rode the dramatic swings of fortune of the golfing calendar. Since Medinah, the golfing world had not just evolved; it had turned on its head. There was a new order. The old were fading, injured, out of form, unable to maintain winning habits. A younger generation had taken over. And, when it came to the showdown, McGinley's masterplan came to fruition. In this gripping account, Iain Carter goes behind the scenes of the epic battle at Gleneagles, from the appointment of the captains to the assembly of the teams in a year of relentless golfing drama. This is the inside story of the clashes, contests and thrilling action over three days that culminated in Europe's blistering triumph. Showdown is a fascinating look at a European victory that has sent shockwaves through American golf, telling the full story of the power and politics, the characters and controversies behind this enthralling contest.

Leseprobe

For Sarah and Ollie

Contents

Foreword by Graeme McDowell

Prologue

1. Watson’s story

2. Watson as captain

3. McGinley’s story

4. McGinley’s path to captaincy

5. McGinley’s appointment

6. Woods and Walker

7. Spieth and Dubuisson

8. The Masters

9. Kaymer and the Players’ Championship

10. McIlroy and Wentworth

11. The US Open

12. The Open

13. The PGA

14. The final build-up

15. Gleneagles Day One

16. Gleneagles Day Two

17. Gleneagles Day Three

Epilogue

Afterword by Colin Montgomerie

Ryder Cup Results

Acknowledgements

Index

Foreword

By Graeme McDowell

There is nothing quite like the Ryder Cup. For us players, it provides an adventure unlike anything else we experience on the golf course. In a game that is steeped in individuality, the feeling of being part of a team is something magical. Competing in front of vast, partisan crowds pumps your adrenaline from start to finish. It is such a rarefied atmosphere, it’s almost impossible to describe what it does to you. You see displays of emotion from players which are so out of character that you realise that they are playing the game with a totally different mindset. It is inevitable that once you get a taste of playing for Europe your number-one objective is to retain your place for future Ryder Cups.

The 2014 match at Gleneagles was my fourth appearance in continental colours. Once again, it was amazing to be part of such a huge event. We were lucky enough to have, in Paul McGinley, the standout captain of recent times. I don’t want to take anything away from Sir Nick Faldo, Colin Montgomerie or José María Olazábal, under whom I played in my first three matches, but Paul was a natural born leader. His attention to detail was second to none and he instilled a subliminal message in the heads of all the players, focusing them intently on the job at hand. I had been one of those who advocated his appointment as skipper and he thrived in the role of trying to beat his boyhood hero, Tom Watson, who led the American team.

This Ryder Cup victory was the culmination of so much hard work from Paul and his team of backroom helpers. We players were motivated and inspired to play at our very best, despite it being the end of an exhausting summer of golf.

It was a year full of intrigue as both teams took shape and new personalities like Victor Dubuisson came on board. It became clear early in the year that the captain intended me to partner Victor and prepare him for the stage that is the Ryder Cup. It seemed merely a coincidence that Victor and I were paired together for the first two rounds of the French Open, where I successfully defended my title. But unbeknown to either of us, it was down to Paul. Even though this was only June and the Ryder Cup wasn’t until September, the captain had already set the wheels in motion for me and the young Frenchman to form a powerful bond.

We won both of our foursomes matches together at Gleneagles, contributing to record-breaking session scores on both afternoons, and then I had the honour of leading out Europe on the final day. It was an awesome responsibility, if not a little intimidating. The scenes on the first tee were unbelievable but, having gone three down to Jordan Spieth early on, I had to dig very deep to turn the match around. Thanks to a raucous crowd, some great golf and a couple of mistakes from Jordan, I managed to secure a point, of which I may be most proud. It was one of many highlights from a Ryder Cup I will never forget.

It capped a year in which we saw Tiger Woods struggle in vain to overcome injury and take his place in the US team. On our side of the pond, my old partner Rory McIlroy stepped into Woods’ shoes, with two major wins. My relationship with Rory was put under some strain too, but our friendship emerged stronger than ever. We also reinforced that unique bond that goes with being Ryder Cup teammates.

I was an outsider looking in when I first encountered one of these biennial transatlantic tussles. In 2006 I was an up-and-coming European Tour pro and I joined Iain Carter in the BBC Radio commentary team at the K Club, where Europe thrashed the Americans to retain the trophy. By the end I didn’t want to be holding a microphone again. I had been inspired to push for a playing role and I made my debut two years later at Valhalla.

It’s a source of great pride that I have played in every match since. I’m happy to leave the commentary to Iain and his 5Live colleagues and already my aim is to push on for the next Ryder Cup at Hazeltine in 2016. Who knows what stories that one will produce? All I know is that there were plenty generated by the build-up to Gleneagles and during the contest itself.

I hope you enjoy reading them in this book.

Prologue

29 September 2014, Gleneagles Hotel, Perthshire

‘Aha! The morning after the night before.’

The Irish brogue was familiar, but a touch more hoarse than usual. This was the victorious captain, at 7.30 a.m. the day after his job was completed. Just five hours of sleep passed before he walked purposefully into the room that had been his team’s base for the previous week. It was situated in one of the wings of the magnificent Gleneagles Hotel.

The area was bedecked in blue and gold. The colours of Europe. The walls were blue and gold, the carpet was blue and gold. He wondered what would become of the carpet. Hundreds of tropical fish swam in their tank. They, too, were either blue or gold. Photographs hung on the walls, depicting great scenes from previous Ryder Cups. Others, carrying messages of inspiration, had already been taken down and packed off to be exhibited in the captain’s native Dublin at a later date.

A handful of media and marketing officials milled around. There was a bar. It had been busy earlier that morning.

There was a tight-knit eating area. Just like the team; tight knit. There were sofas and a coffee table. Upon it were neatly arranged newspapers. They all bore similar images of the champagne-drenched victors in their moment of triumph. On top of the papers sat a trophy. The Ryder Cup. That was pure gold.

A caddie came into the room. Bleary-eyed, he stretched and let out an expletive. His head hurt, but his heart was full of pride. The caddie’s mate arrived. He wanted a beer. ‘No, sorry,’ came the polite reply from the waitress. ‘Why not?’ the man asked. The caddie intervened. He said it wasn’t possible because it was now 7.30 a.m. in the morning. ‘But I haven’t been to bed, it’s still party time for me,’ came the plaintive reply.

The waitress left, the caddie’s mate wandered over to the bar and helped himself to a beer.

The captain shook the hand of the caddie. Whispered words of gratitude. Tight knit. They smiled and the caddie sipped his coffee. Then his boss arrived, a player of great distinction. More smiles, more handshakes, emphatic gestures reflecting a job well done. The player departed, off to pursue his solo career, but forever a part of a winning team. Another golfer and his girlfriend popped in. The same routine. Smiles, handshakes and knowing nods. They had got it right.

The phone sitting on a table next to the door that said ‘Team Europe’ sprang to life. A BBC Radio producer answered and then handed it to the captain. He sat on the chair next to the phone and sighed before that hoarse voice was pressed back into action.

It was time to tell the stories of the night, and of the days before, to the audience watching breakfast television. The answers were sharp, concise and eloquent. Millions of viewers entranced by the events of the previous day hung on his every word.

There was no hangover for the captain. These precious memories were not to be lost in a fog of alcohol. It had been just the same when he had holed the putt to win the trophy 12 years earlier, when he heeded his wife’s advice not to drink too much. He drank it all in, but in a sober fashion.

Over the next hour he talked to various BBC Radio stations, telling them all the same triumphant story. He dealt with the questions regarding the way the Americans had disintegrated on and off the golf course. There were stories to be told about all of that, but it wasn’t for him to say. Other eyewitnesses could recount those tales. It had been clear the opposition were anything but tight knit by the end. And this despite a radical idea to involve a legend of the game – the triumphant captain’s hero, no less – to try to halt their run of defeats.

For the victorious skipper, though, there was just a feeling of immense satisfaction. When it came to the showdown, the biggest event in his sport, the masterplan had come to fruition.

It had been a long road. Gaining the opportunity to do the job had not been straightforward; indeed, it had been contentious and controversial. The victory had been nearly 24 months in the making.

In that time, the golfing world had not just evolved, it had turned on its head. There was a new order. The old guard were fading; injured, out of form and unable to maintain their winning habits. The younger generation had taken over and this process contributed massively to the story of how that gold trophy came to sit on that coffee table, among those newspapers, in that room, on that morning.

The captain had been wrong. This wasn’t the morning after the night before, this was the morning after the two years before – the period since the ‘miracle’ that occurred the last time these two great golfing entities had locked horns.

On this occasion it was not miraculous, it was meticulous. This was the product of a plan, an extraordinarily detailed plan, that rode the dramatic swings of fortune of the golfing calendar.

And this is how it happened.

CHAPTER 1

Watson’s story

‘He thinks that in 2014 not only do we have to win, we need to go over there and hammer these guys.’ Ted Bishop, President of the PGA of America, on Tom Watson

For America, losing their biennial clash with Europe’s top golfers was nothing new. Their defeat in 2012 meant they had lost seven of the last nine Ryder Cups. But this one was the hardest to stomach because they had squandered a seemingly unbeatable position.

Golfers are among the most resilient of athletes. One of the mantras on tour is ‘there’s always next week’ and an immediate chance to atone for each and every disappointment. This loss, however, was different.

Keegan Bradley made a sensational Ryder Cup debut at the Medinah Country Club. He revelled in the atmosphere and won three out of a possible four points. Yet in the wake of the match he could not bring himself to switch on the Golf Channel, the network that provided his usual viewing. ‘It was too difficult,’ Bradley said. He didn’t even unpack the bags that had carried the clothing he wore throughout his Ryder Cup debut. They lay at home, the zips firmly locked.

Jim Furyk, who had played in every American team since 1997, called it ‘the lowest point’, while the even more experienced Phil Mickelson said: ‘We thought we were going to win; we were playing well. It was one of the biggest disappointments I’ve had to deal with in my career.’

Late into the Saturday afternoon fourballs, the US team led by 10 points to 4 and were ahead in one of the two remaining matches. The vast Chicago crowds swarming over the Medinah course were in celebratory mood. They had only 24 hours to wait until the famous trophy would be back in American hands.

They had won it only once this century – in 2008, at Valhalla – and only twice since 1993, the other triumph for this golfing superpower occurring at Brookline in 1999. The thirst for victory was insatiable.

Throughout this barren period for the US, the Ryder Cup had sustained its position as the highest-profile event in golf. Europe celebrated their successes with gusto while American despair grew ever more apparent. Medinah was the most painful defeat by far.

There is no hiding from the Ryder Cup. It defines the professional schedules in Europe and America. Much of the modern game is centred around its qualifying processes. Every two years it is contested over three autumn days, when golf is showcased in its most exciting and dramatic form.

One of the key benchmarks for any American or European player is where they stand in those qualifying tables. A big win in one of the majors – the Masters, the Open, US Open or PGA – is hugely significant in its own right. More often than not, however, it is also seen in the light of what it does for a player’s Ryder Cup chances. Within minutes of winning his second Augusta green jacket in 2014, Bubba Watson was asked for his thoughts on all but sealing his Gleneagles place. The same happened a couple of months later when Germany’s Martin Kaymer ran away with the US Open at Pinehurst.

In short, the Ryder Cup galvanises golf. It draws in the casual sports fan where most other tournaments are restricted to die-hard enthusiasts. It attracts huge crowds, prepared to pay top dollar for the experience. The revenues generated through ticket sales, sponsorship and, most significantly, television rights effectively underwrite the European Tour, while in the US they go a long way to funding the PGA of America.

The reason the event generates such vast sums is because the Ryder Cup can always deliver sport of the highest calibre. Two 12-man teams go head-to-head with cut-throat intensity. On the Friday and Saturday they compete as pairs in alternate-shot foursomes and fourball contests. Here, each player plays his own ball and the one who makes the best score wins the hole. The respective captains decide who plays with whom and in what order. This provides a heady cocktail of tactics, hunches and second-guessing, and adds a compelling sense of intrigue to the spectacle.

On the final day it’s every man for himself, over 12 singles matches. Again, the skippers try to read each other’s thoughts as they finalise their playing orders. In total, there are 28 points to play for, with 14½points enough to win outright a cup that has been the precious prize of these transatlantic jousts since 1927.

The format captures the magic of inserting an individual performer into a team environment. Some prosper, others perish. The process of determining which side of that fence a player will fall invariably involves huge sporting drama.

It also plays to the tribal instincts that help give team sports their captivating edge. That is why so much excitement was being generated on Saturday, 29 September 2012. For those American supporters, there was a genuine expectation that something monumental was in the making. And they would be proved correct – but not, as it turned out, in the way they either expected or wanted.

At one stage at Medinah, Davis Love III’s team led by six points during the Saturday afternoon and needed just four-and-a-half more for the skipper to lay his hands on the trophy. There were two more fourballs to complete, then 12 Sunday singles; a total of 14 points still up for grabs. Europe, led by José María Olazábal, needed to win 10 of those to retain the trophy. That meant winning 71 per cent of the remaining action – precisely matching America’s winning percentage up to that stage of the contest. Put another way, a total reversal was required.

Europe seemed to be out for the count. Walking the course while commentating for BBC 5Live, I could feel the mood. The only remaining question was by how many points America would win. Could they emulate the record-equalling thrashings handed out by Europe to claim the 2004 and 2006 matches, by 18½–9½? It looked a distinct possibility.

Except that Europe had in their ranks a man called Ian Poulter.

No one quite connects with the Ryder Cup like the English golfer from the unpretentious town of Hitchin, just north of London. He had made his debut in 2004 at Oakland Hills and returned to the team as a controversial wildcard pick four years later. He would confound his critics by emerging as the top scorer in Sir Nick Faldo’s losing line-up at Valhalla, taking four points out of a possible five. Two years later, he claimed three out of four in Colin Montgomerie’s victorious team at Celtic Manor.

On Saturday evening at Medinah, Europe were barely breathing. America had won all but one of the six matches completed that day. The one they lost had been down to Poulter’s morning partnership with Justin Rose, the Englishmen beating Watson and Webb Simpson on the final green. It had been one-way traffic ever since. Mickelson and Bradley had set the template by crushing renowned Ryder Cup stalwarts Lee Westwood and Luke Donald with six holes to spare. Watson and Simpson bounced back from their pre-lunch defeat to thrash Rose and Francesco Molinari. By the end, they were five holes ahead with four to play.

It was the kind of hammering that only seems to be handed out when a team is being swept along on a tide of optimism and confidence. Graeme McDowell, the man who claimed the winning point for Europe in 2010, commented: ‘It was hard, very hard to ignore the red on the board. There’s blood in the water. They’re up for it.’

And so it took a truly astounding spell of play to put any kind of brake on the runaway success of the home team. Poulter was in the last match, partnering world number one Rory McIlroy. They were up against the in-form duo of Jason Dufner and Zach Johnson and the Americans were two up with six to play. McIlroy birdied the 13th to halve the arrears and then his inspired English partner took over.

An astonishing run of five straight birdies ended when Poulter holed the winning putt from 12 feet on the final green. Associated Press columnist Tim Dahlberg called it ‘a fist-pumping, gut-roaring, bug-eyed display’. It rescued a precious point and silenced the home support to such an extent that it inspired Donald and Sergio García, the only other Europeans left out on the course. They also won on the final hole, beating Tiger Woods and Steve Stricker.

The catalyst for this late fightback was Poulter – the man they call ‘The Postman’ because he always delivers. ‘He just gets that look in his eye, especially when he makes one of those big putts . . . he’s fist-pumping and he will just look right through you,’ said McIlroy.

Afterwards, Poulter marched into the team room and told his colleagues: ‘Now we have a pulse.’ That pulse was still weak, but it was regular and beating more reliably than it had for most of the first two days.

It also spelt trouble for America. Now they led 10–6, with the singles to go. It remained a commanding position, their biggest Saturday evening lead for 31 years and one that still promised victory. ‘Being up four is nice,’ Woods said. ‘We are in a great spot right now to win the Cup.’ The home team, indeed, had not lost a session.

But their momentum had stalled. Chants of ‘U-S-A, U-S-A!’ had gradually given way to optimistic strains of ‘Olé Olé!’ from the travelling European fans. Unquestionably, there was still a battle to be won.

The final day is remembered as one of the most dramatic ever seen at a Ryder Cup. Europe fed off Poulter’s heroics from the previous morning. They were quickly ahead in the first five matches. They needed to be. Eight out of the dozen points on offer would retain the trophy. As the holders, a 14–14 tie was enough.

Scoreboard pressure is everything in the Ryder Cup. Players are told to ignore the standings and concentrate on their own ball and their own match. But that is impossible. Crowds are either energised or silenced by circumstance. The mood is tangible, dictated by whichever way fortune is flowing. And it was now taking a decidedly European course.

One by one, the points were being delivered by Olazábal’s team. In the top match, Donald beat Watson. Behind, Poulter saw off Simpson, McIlroy accounted for Bradley (even though McIlroy had arrived late at the course, travelling in a State Trooper’s patrol car after misinterpreting his tee time) and Rose sensationally beat Mickelson. Scotland’s Paul Lawrie had already delivered his point with an emphatic 5 and 3 win over Brandt Snedeker. For the United States, the two Johnsons – Zach and Dustin – provided welcome victories, as did Jason Dufner. But García somehow got the better of Furyk on the final green and Westwood beat Matt Kuchar 3 and 2.

All of this meant that if the previously out-of-form Kaymer could beat Stricker, Europe would reach the magic 14-point mark. The German duly obliged, despite charging his initial putt across the home green and six feet past the hole. Kaymer held his nerve coming back and, as the American crowds headed for the exits, he leaped into the arms of his disbelieving yet ecstatic teammates.

Woods then conceded a half to Molinari. Europe had not only retained the trophy but won the match 14½–13½ to repeat their victory of two years earlier by the same margin. They had come back in astonishing style to inflict the most painful American defeat in Ryder Cup history.

Europe called it the ‘Miracle at Medinah’. For the US, it was a ‘Medinah Meltdown’.

So when the 2014 match at Gleneagles came around, the United States’ desire for victory had never been greater. ‘Are we in a desperate situation? Yes, that’s a fair statement,’ admitted Ted Bishop, the President of the PGA of America. ‘I mean, we are real tired of losing. All due respect to the Europeans, they’ve deserved to win these Ryder Cups, but those guys would feel the same way as we do if they’d lost as many times as we have. We are sick and tired of it.’

Even before the US capitulation at Medinah, Bishop had been addressing the issue of his country’s inability to win the event in the modern era. It seems ironic now that it was a suggestion made by America’s greatest golfer, Jack Nicklaus, that had helped make the trophy so hard to regain. The 18-times major champion felt the Ryder Cup would become an irrelevance if it remained a match between the United States and Great Britain and Ireland. These contests held no jeopardy; America won them with ease. Nicklaus recognised that interest in golf was spreading beyond the shores of the British isles. Why, therefore, should America not face the whole of Europe instead? At least the matches would be closer.

The golfing continent of Europe came together for the first time in 1979 and was captained by the hugely respected former player and teacher John Jacobs at The Greenbrier in West Virginia. It remained a predominantly British team but was supplemented by a young Spaniard called Severiano Ballesteros and his compatriot Antonio Garrido.

The outcome did not change, though. America won easily, just as they did at Walton Heath two years later. On that occasion, Dave Marr’s team swept to a record 18½–9½ triumph. It was probably the greatest American team ever assembled, containing the likes of Nicklaus, Tom Watson, Johnny Miller and Lee Trevino. Only Bruce Lietzke, no slouch with 13 wins on the PGA Tour, did not have a major title to his name. Europe had no answer to such strong opposition. But two years later, in 1983, it was a different story.

At the PGA National Golf Club in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida, Europe’s true potential was revealed for the first time. Inspired by Ballesteros, and supplemented by fellow Spaniard José María Cañizares and Germany’s Bernhard Langer, Tony Jacklin’s team came within a point of inflicting America’s first home defeat.

Ballesteros told his disconsolate teammates this was just the beginning and he was correct. Two years later at the Belfry in the English Midlands, Europe marched to a five-point triumph. It was the first time America had been beaten in 28 years. Between then and Gleneagles there had been 12 Ryder Cups. Only four were won by the United States. Furthermore, they had not won an away match since 1993.

This was the statistic that most concerned the incoming President of the PGA of America. He had every reason to make a plan to redress the balance. Ted Bishop is the General Partner and Director of Golf at the Legends Club, a facility he founded in Franklin, south east of Indianapolis. Golf has been his life since graduating from Purdue with a degree in Agronomy and Turf Management in 1976.

For 17 years he was the superintendent at a municipal course in the coal-mining town of Linton, Indiana. He was innovative and enterprising and not afraid of approaching big names to help further the interests of the game in the area. Bishop ran the Phil Harris Celebrity Tournament and attracted the likes of Vice President Dan Quayle and astronaut Neil Armstrong to the field. Celebrated pros came along, too, Dave Marr, Toney Penna and Doug Sanders among them.

These successes helped Bishop make a name for himself. He is charismatic and smart, and has the reputation of being an ‘ideas man’. When, aged 58, he became PGA President he was fearless in challenging rule-makers like the R&A and USGA over their plans to outlaw anchored putting techniques. He blogs regularly and maintained a high profile throughout his tenure.

Bishop left Linton in the early 1990s when he bought farmland and transformed it into the Legends Club. People liked the fact that he could think ‘out of the box’ when seeking new ways to grow the game. It was clear that he was destined for high office at the PGA of America, which administers the club game in the US. A member since 1985, he had served as President of the Indiana section. Bishop was elected to the PGA Board of Directors in 2006 and served as Secretary for the two years prior to becoming Vice President in 2010.

As well as looking after club professionals, the organisation is also responsible for the Ryder Cup in the United States. Bishop was slated to become its 38th President, which meant taking over in the wake of Medinah and overseeing America’s challenge at Gleneagles – as well as naming the next captain.

For whatever reason, the PGA of America had previously followed an unofficial doctrine which stated that Ryder Cup captains had to be major champions, had to have played on multiple Ryder Cup teams and needed to be in their mid- to late-forties.

‘So there was this unofficial list of guys that met this criteria that would almost be handed down on the back of a napkin from president to president. You just picked the next guy and went on,’ said Bishop.

Davis Love and his immediate predecessors Corey Pavin, Paul Azinger, Tom Lehman and Hal Sutton had all ticked those boxes but, of those, only Azinger in 2008 had emerged a winner.

Bishop assumed he would go down the familiar process of picking the next skipper. ‘I started doing a lot of research and I went back through the past 15 years and I created this matrix of major champions. I looked at all the Americans who had won majors.

‘You had a group that had won and never played on a Ryder Cup team (John Daly, Todd Hamilton, Lucas Glover, Shaun Micheel and Mark Brooks). So they’re not potential captains. Then you had someone like Payne Stewart, who would have been an ideal choice but is sadly no longer with us [Stewart was killed in a plane accident months after winning the 1999 US Open. He had also played in the Brookline victory that year]. All of a sudden, when you started looking at this list of possibles, there were only maybe six or seven guys.

‘This was because of the number of Europeans and other foreign players who were now winning majors, plus the number Woods and Mickelson had won in this era. So our list was pretty short and I thought if ever there was an opportunity to do something different, 2014 offered the chance.’

Bishop had an alternative plan, one that had been in the making since 2009, the year of his first visit to an Open Championship. He went to Turnberry, on Scotland’s Ayrshire coast, and witnessed the most improbable challenge for a major that golf had ever seen. At the age of 59, Tom Watson came within an eight-foot putt of winning his sixth Open, what would have been his ninth major in total. The story of a man of such senior years claiming one of sport’s elite titles would have been remembered for evermore.

‘What a first one to go to!’ Bishop recalled. ‘I’ll never forget this. I was on the course on the Sunday with my wife and I said to her towards the end of the front nine: “You know what? Let’s go back.” We were staying in Ayr and I wanted to watch the BBC call the last nine holes. I wanted to hear what Peter Alliss would say because I really thought Tom was going to win.’

As it turned out, Watson missed that eight-footer, failed to par the last hole and the great Alliss never had the chance to marry his magical words to a moment that would have transcended the game. Instead, Watson had to settle for a four-hole play-off with Stewart Cink which was convincingly won by his younger compatriot.

Nevertheless, the story of Watson’s odyssey was brilliantly captured by the late American broadcaster and writer Jim Huber in his book Four Days in July, published in 2011. At that year’s PGA Grand Slam event in Bermuda, Huber handed a copy to Bishop.

‘I read it on the flight back to Indianapolis,’ Bishop said. ‘I really have to credit Jim Huber for tripping the switch in my mind. As I was reading the book, I thought: “Hey, this is Scotland, why not Tom Watson for captain in 2014?”’

Watson had been the last man to captain America to Ryder Cup victory on European soil back in 1993. He had won four of his five Opens in Scotland and, as was shown at Turnberry in 2009, he still commanded immense popularity in the country that would stage Europe’s next home Ryder Cup.

His caddie since 2003 has been his great friend Neil Oxman, a full-time political strategist and regular lecturer at the University of Pennsylvania and at Oxford in the UK. Oxman is also a fine golfer and occasionally plays friendly matches with Watson. ‘We talk a lot about the Ryder Cup because I caddied for Tommy Horton in the 1975 match when it was just GB and Ireland versus the US. When I play against Tom, I always make myself Sir Henry Cotton. We actually always play Ryder Cup matches,’ he revealed.

Oxman was at Watson’s side at Turnberry and could feel the crowds’ adulation for his boss. He says the reaction is magnified in Scotland, but that the response he generates throughout the United Kingdom is sometimes hard to handle. ‘Thousands of people would just stand and applaud, for no reason. You would literally get tears in your eyes. Even as a caddie you feel the emotion. Tom had to say: “Boy it’s hard for me to play, I’ve got to concentrate and it’s hard.”

‘All the crowds in the UK are like that with him – especially now that Arnie doesn’t play and Jack doesn’t play and Gary doesn’t play and Trevino’s stopped coming. He’s kind of the last guy, the last living legend who still plays. But he’s not playing ceremonial golf. He’s playing real golf. He keeps playing well.’

At Turnberry, the standard of his play was so high that it prompted Huber to write the book that had such an effect on Bishop, on his way home to Indianapolis. ‘I got back to the house and straightaway sent Jim an email and asked him if I could call him at the weekend,’ Bishop said.

‘We spoke on the Saturday and I said to him I had an off-the-wall question. What would he think of Tom Watson for Ryder Cup captain at Gleneagles in 2014? Other than my wife, Jim was the first person I threw the idea past. I was aware Jim knew Tom better than I did. He probably had a good idea what was inside Tom’s head, as to whether he would be interested. When I posed that question there was a pause. Then he gave me a one-word answer. He just said: “Brilliant.”

‘Then he gave me Tom’s cell phone number. Jim was funny. He said: “When you call Watson don’t tell him where you got this number.”’

Bishop spent the next fortnight mulling over the idea. Watson’s number was now safely stored in his cell phone. It was on the 180-mile journey from Chicago back to Indianapolis when the PGA Vice President decided it was time to make his approach.

‘I was nervous about it,’ Bishop admitted. ‘You know, Tom Watson is Tom Watson. He’s one of the sport’s icons and I didn’t really have a lot of history with him. None, at that point in time. I also knew we had staged a Ryder Cup captains’ dinner in Savannah the previous May and Tom was one of the few who didn’t go.’

The call didn’t begin particularly well. ‘I told him who I was and I could tell he was outside. You could hear wind blowing through the telephone. He said: “I’m pheasant hunting in South Dakota, could you call me back tonight?” When I called back later that evening, the conversation started with him saying: “Tell me your name again?”’

Bishop explained that, having missed him at Savannah, he would like to pick his brains on America’s lack of recent successes in the Ryder Cup away from home. ‘Ironically, you were the last winning captain,’ he told Watson. ‘Why have we not won over there since?’

Watson was typically blunt. ‘Well, for one thing the Europeans have played better than we have,’ he said. ‘Maybe they have better players during the week of the Ryder Cup.’

It was clear that Watson was energised by the conversation. Bishop revealed: ‘He got into the fundamentals of the players’ swings and he said: ‘You know, I’ve watched our guys and their guys and I’m not so sure their swings aren’t better, which helps them hold up in bad weather.’ He went on to talk about the familiarity the Europeans have with the golf courses, because they usually play Tour events on them.’

Watson also reasoned that the American players were often exhausted because they came to the Ryder Cup a week after the season-ending Tour Championship in Atlanta. ‘That’s kind of the way the conversation went,’ Bishop said. The chat lasted around three-quarters of an hour. ‘At the end I said: “Well, here’s the million-dollar question. Would you ever have any desire to be Ryder Cup captain again?”

‘He said: “You know Ted, this is the phone call that I’ve been waiting on for years. I might be very interested.”’

Their discussion took place in November 2011. The Medinah Ryder Cup was still more than 10 months away and Gleneagles nearly three years off. Watson had not attended the event since leading his country to victory almost 20 years before.

Back then, he had been the one to initiate captaincy talk. ‘It was different,’ Watson recalled. ‘Chuck Rubin was my manager in those days. I asked Chuck: “I would like to be a Ryder Cup captain. Can you make contact with them? And if you do, please request that I am a captain overseas, because of the record that I’ve had over there.” ’

Rubin carried out the request. This was 1992 and, a few months later, Watson received a call from the PGA of America and was summoned for an interview. Within 15 minutes Watson was offered the job. It was a no-brainer. He had a legendary status in the game, having won five Open Championships in 1975, 1977, 1980, 1982 and 1983 to go with Masters victories in 1977 and 1981 and his US Open triumph at Pebble Beach in 1982. He played in four Ryder Cups, recording 10 wins, four defeats and one half. The tied 1989 contest at the Belfry was the only Ryder Cup he had been involved in that America had not won.

Furthermore, he was a consummate ambassador for the game. Watson was regarded as someone who would always do or say the right thing. He had learned his golf at the Kansas City Country Club but resigned in 1990 when he discovered that a businessman called Henry Bloch had been denied membership because he was Jewish. ‘I felt it was a religious issue and I cannot live with that,’ Watson told the local newspaper. ‘I feel more than uncomfortable. I think it’s wrong. It’s more than my conscience could bear.’

As Oxman observed: ‘He’s a gentleman. He was raised a certain way. There are guys you see on a golf course who are “hot dogs”, and Tom’s not like that. I think he saw how gracious Jack Nicklaus always was in defeat. One of the great golf writers wrote that Jack was even greater in defeat than he was in victory, in terms of his graciousness. With the exception of Augusta, he turns up at every tournament thinking he can win. But he doesn’t do it in an obnoxious way. There’s no swagger about it, there’s no chip on the shoulder.’

Back in 1993, he was a natural choice. For the 2014 match, it was much more a decision from left field.

Bishop and Watson finished their conversation with an exchange of email addresses. The next morning Bishop was up early, heading to his office at Legends. On his arrival the first thing he saw in his inbox was a message from the man with whom he had been conversing the night before. ‘I’m thinking: “Uh-oh, maybe he doesn’t want to do it.”’ Bishop admitted.

But Watson had emailed to say he would like to speak again that morning. The call lasted two hours. ‘Tom was asking me questions about the 2010 Ryder Cup in Wales,’ Bishop said. ‘He was trying to determine the similarities and the differences between today’s Ryder Cup and the one in 1993. It was fun. He was asking all the questions and I was giving all the answers.’

The two men stayed in touch over the coming months but Bishop’s next big move wasn’t until 10 days after Medinah. American golf was hurting like never before. The feeling that a radically different approach was needed had been reinforced.

Bishop flew to Watson’s ranch in Kansas City and briefed his prospective skipper on all that had happened during those dramatic days in the Chicago suburbs. ‘We met for probably six hours that day,’ Bishop said. ‘We did that and it was basically a handshake and I said: “Okay, we will see you in a month or so.”’

Bishop, meanwhile, had drawn up an 85-page document to support his notion that someone who would be in his mid-60s when the next Ryder Cup came around was the man to lead America’s quest for the trophy. The dossier was effectively a campaign manifesto to woo votes for this unorthodox course of action from his senior colleagues.

The only potential blight on Watson’s reputation was that he had had a problem with alcohol, but even that became an indicator of his inner strength. In the 1990s he became increasingly dependent on drinking and his marriage to childhood sweetheart Linda was unravelling. They divorced after 25 years, having wed in the wake of his graduation from Stanford University.

In 1998 Watson tackled the problem head-on and brought an end to his reliance on the bottle. ‘I stopped all by myself,’ he later revealed. ‘Drinking is a choice. It’s a social issue, a peer-pressure issue. If I’d had trouble giving it up, I would have gotten some help. But I managed.’

The alcohol issue featured in Bishop’s document. So did the fact that Watson was now happily married to his second wife Hilary, who had been a pillar of support in the wake of the 2009 Turnberry loss. The incoming PGA President was determined to see this through and break from the norm. Yes, it was a move outside the box, but he was convinced he had the right man for the job.

‘The thing I love about Watson is that winning is number one on his priority list,’ Bishop said. ‘It’s just all about bringing the Cup back here. He would tell you that he thinks in 2014 not only do we need to win, we need to go over there and hammer these guys. We need to send a message loud and clear that we are going to bring back the Ryder Cup in style. And I think that what really drives these comments is that we had a sizeable lead going into Sunday at Medinah and we didn’t put them away.’

A month later Bishop, Vice President Derek Sprague, Secretary Paul Levy and brand new PGA Chief Executive Peter Bevacqua flew to Kansas City for the formal interview process. Watson was going to be the next Ryder Cup captain, the first to do the job for a second time since Nicklaus in 1987. The fervent hope was that Watson would be more successful than his great friend and rival had been on his return. Nicklaus was the first skipper to lose a home match, a result that went a long way to inspiring Europe’s current domination.

Still, the move was top secret. Few outside the PGA’s inner circle were aware of the radical plan. Watson carried on playing a mixture of seniors and main tour golf around the world. He played in the 2012 Australian Open and shot the lowest round of the final day, a week before the announcement of America’s new skipper on 13 December.

Oxman was one of those who knew what was about to happen. ‘Tom and his wife went on safari in South Africa. Then he played Sun City and the Australian Open. So we literally went round the world in one trip. We left on separate planes – I went back to Pennsylvania and he went to New York, where it was announced that he was going to be Ryder Cup captain. He was really excited about it, it was a big deal.’

Most observers were expecting David Toms – a major-winning, multiple Ryder Cup player in his mid-40s – to succeed Davis Love. If it was to be someone from the older guard, then maybe the nod would go to Larry Nelson, a three-times major winner who had won five out of five Cup matches in 1979.

The fact that both men categorically denied they had been approached offered the only clue that something different might be afoot. In Sydney, Watson was asked if he was interested in the job: ‘It would be a great honour if I was tapped on the shoulder,’ he replied.

This alerted the American media and while Watson was in the air on Tuesday, before the scheduled Thursday announcement, Golf Digest broke the news. The best-kept secret in the game was out of the bag.

Watson was unveiled alongside Bishop on NBC’s Today show before a set-piece news conference on the 80th floor of the Empire State Building. Bishop told reporters: ‘We feel he’s certainly the perfect person to do this, based on his playing record in Scotland.

‘The other key thing is how this gentleman is revered there. He’s got a tremendous understanding of the culture, the country and its people. We also know about the unique weather challenges that Scotland will probably present and I think he is recognised as one of the top players under challenging conditions. We certainly hope that will translate to our team.’

‘The way I look at being a captain, it’s like being a stage manager,’ Watson said. ‘That person has to prepare the stage for the actors and that’s what I do as captain. My job is simply to co-ordinate and maybe inspire a little bit.’

Watson fronted up to the accusation that he would be too old. ‘I can deflect that very simply,’ he said. ‘We play the same game. I play against these kids at the Masters. I play against them at the British Open, the Greenbrier Classic. We play the same game and they understand that. I understand that.’

It was a forceful and impressive display from the veteran, who showed no signs of fatigue despite having flown from Kansas to Cape Town, then to Sydney and back to New York in the preceding week. As Oxman says: ‘The guy is pretty young – you wouldn’t know what his age is.’

Watson’s message to Europe was emphatic: ‘We are going to pull out all the stops to beat you guys. I will do it in the style and grace in which we play the game. We’re tired of losing. I learned to win by hating to lose. It’s about time to start winning again.’

The one area of concern was Watson’s relationship with America’s best player. He had been outspoken in his criticism of Tiger Woods when the 14-times major champion became embroiled in scandal after his multiple affairs went public in 2009. Watson had said: ‘I think he needs to clean up his act and show the respect for the game that other people before him have shown.’

But Watson gave a very different message to the world’s media assembled at the Empire State Building. ‘You can bet that he’s going to be number one on my pick list. My relationship with Tiger is fine. Whatever has been said before is water under the bridge, no issues. He dominates this game unlike anybody in the history of the sport. So I want him on my team.’

Woods reacted swiftly with his own statement: ‘I think he’s a really good choice. Tom knows what it takes to win and that’s our ultimate goal. I hope I have the privilege of joining him on the 2014 United States team.’

Little did Woods know how what was to become a vain hope would form a substantial part of the narrative in the build-up to Gleneagles.

America, though, had made a bold statement. They were daring to be different or, as Roger Warren, one of Bishop’s predecessors, suggested, they had no choice. ‘It’s like the definition of insanity. You can’t keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect a different result.’

Hence this radical route. It was a match the US had to win, like never before. They had turned to one of the game’s legends to reverse their fortunes. The questions now were: would he be up to the job, considering his age, and how would Europe respond?

CHAPTER 2

Watson as captain

‘I want players with heart. I want people who can make that five-footer. That’s what I’ll be looking for – those are the types of players that win Ryder Cups.’ Tom Watson

Tom Watson came into the room full of apologies. He was late, but with good reason. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to talk to him as he prepared to compete in the British Senior’s Open at Royal Porthcawl in July 2014.

‘I’m sorry to delay you so much, I feel like Jack Nicklaus,’ he joked as he took his seat. Nicklaus, with a record 18 major championships to his name, is regularly held up by well-wishers and admirers whenever he is anywhere near a golf course. It was the same for Watson, particularly in the build-up to the Gleneagles showdown. Not only was he a legendary golfing figure in his own right, but now the 65-year-old was leading the US in its quest to wrestle back the precious Ryder Cup.

We had scheduled our conversation in the company of Bernard Gallacher, who had been Europe’s captain the last time Watson had led America, back in 1993. That had also been the last occasion that the US had won an away match. From the outset, it was evident that this little gold trophy, at the heart of the September contest in Scotland, has always mattered hugely to Watson.

‘My main goal was to be the best player I could be,’ he said. ‘But it was also to make the Ryder Cup team. It really was a goal of mine – I wanted to play for my country. One of the best experiences I can remember was making the team for the first time in 1977 and watching the American flag go up, with the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ being played at the opening ceremony on that grey afternoon at Lytham and St Annes.

‘Having that feeling that I’m part of a team for America. That was a very, very special time for me. It really sent chills, I mean, I was teary, the emotions were really, really hot,’ he added in the interview for BBC Radio.

The idea of the meeting was to provide the opportunity for Watson and Gallacher to reminisce. They had played each other in the 1983 singles, when Europe came so close to victory on American soil for the first time. Watson won 2 and 1 to deliver a crucial point in a Ryder Cup effectively settled by Lanny Wadkins’ brilliant approach to the last which forced a half against José María Cañizares. Nicklaus was the US captain on that occasion and Watson recalled: ‘That was the most animated I ever saw Jack on the golf course, the way he hugged Lanny after that shot.’ Gallacher nodded in rueful agreement.

But Watson did not want to dwell on old times. Unprompted, he brought the conversation up to date in a way that indicated how the mission to win back the trophy was at the forefront of his mind. ‘The American team has to get back on track,’ he said. ‘The loss at Medinah should stick in their craw. All those playing in the Ryder Cup team this year, it should stick in their craw and they have to take care of business, to basically get even.’

Watson wasn’t at Medinah but still felt the pain of American defeat acutely. ‘One of the things I recall is having an empty feeling for three or four days after that Ryder Cup defeat. I really did. I’ve never had that empty feeling, ever, playing for myself. My gut was hollow and it was just so disappointing that we lost.

‘It basically came down to one hole with [Phil] Mickelson and [Justin] Rose . . . Rose did great things.’ Rose had closed out an epic match on the 18th green after holing a huge putt to win the 17th with a birdie.

‘The beautiful thing about the Ryder Cup is I see more holed shots and more great shots than in any other event,’ added Watson. ‘You just don’t see it in individual tournaments. When they’re playing for their team it’s like they are holing from everywhere. The shots they are making are spectacular, the players rise to the occasion.’

Watson’s appointment as captain for 2014 received popular acclaim. Few people felt he was too old. Nevertheless, it was a subject that he was touchy about. Watching him in press conferences throughout the year of the match, it was evident he was keen to shut down any talk of him being aged or out of touch. This was especially the case after he appointed Andy North, who was 64, and Raymond Floyd, 72, as vice captains.

‘Are you too old to be a Ryder Cup captain? The way I answer that, and I believe this with all my heart, is that these players know Raymond, Andy and myself,’ Watson said. ‘We’ve been there. We know what Ryder Cup pressure is all about. Raymond and I have been captains. We know what’s going on. And to have that trust and respect from the players that we know what’s going on, that can help them. So the age difference, actually, it’s kind of like a professor. You go to learn from a professor. He’s been there, he knows, he has the experience, he has the knowledge; and that’s what we bring as captains and vice captains to the Ryder Cup.

‘When these players look at Raymond, they know he’s been there and they know he’s been successful. They know he wants to win. I don’t really need anything else. We need those players to understand that we are there to support them. We have their back. Whatever they need, we’ll bring it to them,’ Watson added.

Gallacher, meanwhile, feared the impact that Watson’s appointment might have on the American team. He also believed such a revered figure would be able to breathe new life into the match. ‘I just thought it was a masterstroke from the American PGA,’ the Scot said. ‘We won at Celtic Manor and Medinah. If anybody can keep the interest going on the American side, it is Tom. It’s not just about the players; you’re really thinking about the American public, keeping them interested. If it’s important for Tom to be captain, trying to get back the trophy, then it should be important to the American golfing public.

‘Of course, it’s in Scotland as well,’ Gallacher added. ‘Tom is better known in Scotland than anybody else in the world! He’s so respected and well liked . . . If anybody can turn around the American side, you would probably think of somebody like Tom Watson to do it.’

When Gallacher and Watson locked horns as captains in 1993 it was in a match that followed the infamous ‘War on the Shore’ at Kiawah Island. That had been a thrilling contest that wasn’t settled until Bernhard Langer missed from around six feet on the final green against Hale Irwin. It had been marked, though, by ill-feeling between the teams. Some US players, including future captain Corey Pavin, wore military-style caps because the first Gulf War was underway. It was a crass gesture that took no account of the fact that troops from European nations were involved as well. The atmosphere from the crowd was hostile and a local radio station made prank early-morning phone calls to disturb the sleep of European players. All this meant that the two captains in 1993 had to make sure the contest at the Belfry was played in the right spirit. Gallacher and Watson proved the perfect ambassadorial figures for such a task.

Ryder Cups, though, are always a partisan business. Players and fans become more demonstrative than in any other form of the game. Watson remembered being shocked by this dimension when he first took part.

‘I was playing with Hubert Green on the first day,’ he said, recalling the Lytham match of 1977. ‘We had Tommy Horton and Brian Barnes six down after 10 holes. I knocked it on to the par-5 11th in two and they were scrambling. Tommy hit it to 15 feet and although I was on in two I didn’t make a good putt. It came up four or five feet short. Tommy made his putt and I missed and a cheer went up from the crowd. I didn’t like that. I did not like that at all.

‘But I looked at it logically and actually it motivated me, and the other hand is, you know, if I’m pulling for that other team, it’s actually okay to cheer for a missed putt. I don’t mind that. You don’t do that at an Open Championship when somebody misses a putt, but in the Ryder Cup it’s okay. But the thing is, you don’t want people yelling at them on their back swing.’

Watson wasn’t lying when he told PGA of America President Ted Bishop that he had waited 20 years for the call to re-assume the captaincy. Ever since his appointment, this seemingly most youthful 60-something relished the prospect of returning to the US team room. He couldn’t wait to impose his Ryder Cup philosophies on a side that, once assembled, would boast an excellent mix of youth and experience.

‘Golf is an individual sport, Ryder Cup is a team sport, although you are playing individually,’ Watson explained. ‘Bottom line, you are still playing individually. You are playing the golf course the best you can as a player, but the team rooms are wonderful places to be. The camaraderie is great because we share a level of pressure together. I’ve talked to past captains – Davis Love, Tom Lehman and Corey Pavin – about the team rooms and they just say how spot on it is. It’s just the nature of everybody, so gung-ho to play in the Ryder Cup. Being in the team room is different than playing for yourself and it is a joy.’

Giving an insight into the way he intended to manage his golfers, Watson stressed the importance of lightening the mood and empowering them to perform an invaluable role. ‘In 1993, Payne Stewart was carrying that ball for the team,’ Watson revealed. ‘He was the gung-ho guy, he got in people’s minds. And then there are the quiet people, who every now and then put a line out and make everybody laugh. Under all that pressure, laughter is the greatest way of reducing it to a degree which is tolerable. You have to release the players, and humour is just great for that.’

As Watson found out when he grilled Bishop about what a modern-day Ryder Cup entails, the event has grown massively. But the returning skipper saw no reason to change the methods that resulted in his team coming from behind to beat Gallacher’s side 15–13. ‘I haven’t changed my way of thinking about the Ryder Cup. As a captain, what I can bring to the table, very specifically, is putting the teams together, the right players together. You assess how they are playing and how to change the teams if necessary. Prior to that, you pick the three players who are going to complete and help your team. The bottom line is that I’m not there to motivate. If they’re not motivated to play, they’re in the wrong business and I know 100 per cent that everybody will be motivated. I may be able to inspire them a little bit . . . there’s a lot of pressure going on and to try and create a place of respite for the players with humour and ease, that’s my job. Clear the obstacles and make it easy for them to go out and perform.

‘The pressure won’t be any different,’ Watson continued. ‘You are playing on the Ryder Cup team and the players who’ve been there before recognise what pressure is all about. The players who haven’t played before, well, the players who’ve played before will tell them – that’s the way it works. They won’t ask me so much, but if they do I’ll talk to them about it.

‘You hope all your players are playing to the best of their capabilities – which is never the case,’ he added with his trademark gap-toothed grin.