Lee Westwood has had a rotten year. The English golfer hasn't won all season. His best finish was 15th, at last month's NEC Invitational in Seattle. Last year, he was ranked No. 4 in the world. Now he's No. 133, the lowest of any player at next week's Ryder Cup. People keep asking whether this fading star has any shine left for his team, and it's getting on his nerves. "People put too much emphasis on [the Cup]," he said two weeks ago, after missing the cut at the European Masters in Switzerland. "It's supposed to be fun."
Did he just use the F word? The Ryder Cup runneth over with all kinds of emotion: nauseating anticipation at the first tee; knee-knocking nervousness before a key putt; champagne-soaked joy for one side at the end. "Golf is usually a selfish sport," says Northern Ireland's cigar-chomping Darren Clarke, who's playing in his third Cup. But the biennial U.S.-vs.-Europe showdown has a rare team spirit that appeals even to nonfans. This year's matches, Sept. 27-29 at the Belfry in Sutton Coldfield, England, a venue that has hosted the Cup three times before, should be no different. There will be tension, surprises, mind games; there always are at Ryder Cups. But who would really call it fun?
Originally set for last fall, the Cup was postponed after the Sept. 11 attacks. The balls and T shirts and golf umbrellas in the Belfry souvenir shop still say "Ryder Cup: 1927-2001," as do the flags, the websites and even the wrappers on the mints in the hospitality tents. The Belfry's Brabazon course, built on old potato fields in the '70s, is also much the same, including the famed 18th hole, with that ball-swallowing, dream-dashing lake guarding the green.
The 12-man teams, too, are unchanged. Sort of. The captains Sam Torrance of Europe and Curtis Strange of the U.S. agreed to stick with the 2001 rosters, so players' form and fitness were beyond their control. Europe has Westwood, and the U.S. has Hal Sutton, the top-scoring American at the 1999 Cup at Brookline Country Club, outside Boston, whose ranking has fallen to 115. Injuries have also hampered Ireland's Padraig Harrington (neck and ankle) and Colin Montgomerie of Scotland (back), whom Swedish rookie Pierre Fulke calls the team's "big-brother figure." Says Torrance: "I've got maybe 80% of the team at the top of their game. 20% is struggling a wee bit."
On paper, that wee bit of trouble seems to be a big problem. The U.S. has World No. 1 Tiger Woods, No. 2 Phil Mickelson and three other players in the Top 10. Europe has just two, Harrington and Spain's Sergio García. The rankings suggest the Americans should just leave the 48-cm gold trophy at U.S. tour headquarters in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida, where it has been since they staged history's biggest final-day rally to win in 1999. London bookmakers have the U.S. as a 1-to-2 favorite.
The Ryder Cup, though, pays little heed to rankings, to the routine par 72 and four rounds. It's a different ball game. In the three-day match-play format, each match is worth a point; the team with the most points wins. The first two mornings at the Belfry will feature fourballs four two-on-two matches in which the golfers play their own balls, with the best on each side counting. After lunch, it's time for foursomes also two-on-two, but with each team member taking alternate shots on one ball. Sunday is for singles, with 12 one-on-one matches that will "be like playing the last few holes of a major," says Sweden's Niclas Fasth, who made his name and the squad by finishing second at his first major, the 2001 British Open. "The last day always brings out the best."
But not always in the players you'd expect. Match play, says four-time U.S. team member Paul Azinger, "is the great equalizer," and at the Cup, greats often become goats and the unsung can deliver sporting arias. Take Tiger. He has won just three of his 10 Ryder Cup matches. But Philip Walton's name is synonymous with victory. In 1995, the Irishman sank the putt that secured a European win on U.S. soil. He hasn't won a tourney since.
Europe has some notable names gunning for glory this year. The vast experience of Montgomerie, who has played in five Cups, and German Bernhard Langer, a veteran of nine who has expressed interest in the 2004 captaincy, will steady the team. Also look for Sergio García and Jesper Parnevik. In 1999, the fiery young Spaniard and the quirkily cool Swede were unbeaten in their four matches together.
Two rookies who may make an early impact are Ireland's Paul McGinley and Phillip Price of Wales. The stocky, steady McGinley will likely partner with Harrington, his affable, slow-playing countryman. The two won the 1997 World Cup and took three of their four matches at this year's Seve Trophy, a Britain and Ireland vs. the Continent contest. Price and Fulke, both struggling this season, paired up to beat everyone else in practice fourball matches at the Belfry in May. "The other guys on the team were surprised," Price says. "It was good, low-key and we won all the money." Says Torrance: "He'll be awesome in the foursomes. He's a very straight hitter with a good short game."
Such skills will be crucial, but the Ryder Cup is as much a trial of strategy and mental strength as a test of golfing prowess. If you lose a hole, can you turn things around on the next? If you win one, can you use your momentum to shake the other guy? "You have to be more aggressive and go for your shots," says Clarke. "You want to force your opponent to take shots he might not want to."
What motivates Europe may not be what you think. It's not revenge, though golf fans will surely bring up 1991's War by the Shore at Kiawah Island, South Carolina, where the Americans, in the flush of Gulf War bellicosity, donned camouflage caps. Or the bad manners at Brookline in 1999, when Team U.S.A. players, wives, hangers-on stormed the 17th green to celebrate what turned out to be the winning putt, even though Spain's José María Olazábal hadn't yet played his. It's not a Europe-as-one spirit either though the Ryder Cup and its women's counterpart, the Solheim Cup, are two of the only sporting events that feature a Team Europe. "But I guess as Europe does come together more and more, it's easier to play for it," says Fasth.
The Europeans are driven by something much more basic. "It's pride," says Clarke. "We just want to win for ourselves and for our teammates." "The biggest motivational factor is that we did not bring that gold baby back on the plane last time," Torrance says. "That's what hurts, not how it happened."
There's no better place for Torrance to heal the wound than the Belfry, where, in 1985, he sank the putt that brought the trophy back to Europe for the first time in 28 years. And for players like Westwood, who have spent much of 2002 in the rough, a victory in golf's biggest event would mean even more. They could hear once again a word that hasn't been used to describe them all year. Winner.