You a muscle-car fan? Maybe you remember the original versions of the Corvette, the Mustang, Camaro and the rest … Lean, purpose-built head-turners. Fun. Fast.
Several generations later, they were a little bloated, somewhat flabby, and really overdressed, something like everybody you saw at your high-school graduating class’s 10th (or 20th) reunion. (You were the exception, of course.)
Such is the Ryder Cup.
In 1927, British businessman Samuel Ryder wanted to establish a friendly biennial match between the top British and American pros. “Why can’t they all get to know each other?” said Ryder. “I will give £5 to each of the winning players, and give a party afterwards, with champagne and chicken sandwiches.”
And so it went, with the Americans kicking British buttocks at just about every meeting until it was agreed to add European players to the fray in 1979, a move that led to yet another format change. In 1961, the first change was made. Originally, it was a two-day affair: Four foursomes (alternate shot) matches on the first day, and eight singles matches on the second, each of 36 holes.
There were a couple of other tweaks until today’s format was finalized in ’79: Four fourball (better ball) and four foursome matches on each of the first two days and 12 singles matches on the third day, for a total of 28 possible points.
Let’s review. 1927: Champagne, chicken sandwiches, two days, fun. Even the trophy was understated: A gold chalice just 17 inches high.
What a contrast with the overblown extravaganza we will witness this week at Gleneagles in Scotland. Only the trophy remains unchanged.
While I don’t want to turn this into a Ryder Cup history lesson, I do want to remind you that, despite some nationalistic unpleasantness at the 1989 edition at The Belfry in England, this whole thing went sideways in 1991, the infamous “War on the Shore” at Kiawah Island in South Carolina, which (according to the incomparable David Feherty) was contested “against a background of 25,000 beer-swilling, jingoistic golf junkies with ass-cracks full of dune sand, chanting ‘USA! USA! USA!’” He may have understated that. I think there were 30,000 of them. And they weren’t chanting. They were yelling. He was bang-on about the rest of the details.
It hasn’t gotten any better since then, on either side of the Atlantic, as it sinks under its own overwrought weight into less of a golf event than an over-the-top extravaganza, populated outside and inside the ropes by xenophobes. The intent of Sam Ryder’s lean, fast, purpose-built original has been lost.
Until now!
Herewith my irrefutable suggestions to return this event to its roots:
1. Let the captains pick their entire team which would consist of eight players. No qualification process.
2. Get rid of the fans, wives, celebrity assistant captains, and similar hangers-on. A made-for-TV event only. Return this to the true golf competition it was meant to be.
3. No galleries means potential access to iconic courses in the U.S. and Europe previously unthinkable from a logistical standpoint: Pine Valley, the courses at Bandon Dunes, Royal County Down, Royal Dornoch, Sandhills, etc.
4. Play it over two days, as it was in the beginning … unless … (see No. 5)
5. Get rid of the Presidents Cup. Invite a Rest of the World team into the Ryder Cup and expand the three-way event to four days. That would also expand the venues available worldwide. In this country alone, imagine The National Golf Club of Canada, Cabot Links/Cliffs, Highlands Links, Sagebrush, and others. How about Barnbougle Dunes in Australia or Cape Kidnappers in New Zealand? I am sure you can think of others. Additionally, it would allow U.S. and Euro players to focus on one event every two years, rather than having the distraction of the Presidents Cup in alternate years.
Like those muscle cars I mentioned, which now are more powerful and more impressive than even the original versions, the Ryder Cup has a chance to not just get progressively older and fatter, but to reinvent itself as better.