George Kimballbelieves that the American approach to the Ryder Cup left a lot to be desired

HAVING BEEN subjected for two weeks to jingoistic Olympic coverage that ignored the participation of 201 other countries and focused on only the Americans, what would have made anyone suppose that the 37th Ryder Cup was going to be any different? You could just see the suits hunkered down in Bristol and New York as they plotted out their game plan: "Let's see. How do we begin to cover a golf event that doesn't have Tiger Woods in it?" In the end, the surprise wasn't that the upstart Americans won the cup for the first time in nearly a decade, but that ESPN and NBC managed to go three whole days without once invoking the name of Michael Phelps.

Plainly sweltering in the gathering heat, ESPN's Rick Reilly looked absolutely bizarre on the lawn of the Valhalla clubhouse on Friday morning, incongruously clad in a pinstriped Al Capone suit, as he grandiously explained how the Americans were about to pull off the greatest upset seen in Louisville since 2005, when 50 to 1 shot Giacamo romped home to win that year's Kentucky Derby.

As images of the Americans' celebration on the 17th green at Brookline nine years earlier rolled across the screen, Reilly ticked off his list of reasons the home team might win the Ryder Cup despite the absence of "the best player in the galaxy". Let's see: There were the obligatory digs at Nick Faldo for his failure to augment his team with the veteran ballast that Colin Montgomerie and Darren Clarke might have provided, and there were jokes about the relative anonymity (to US television audiences, anyway) of the players Europe had brought to America.

"Oliver Wilson? With a name like that he sounds like he ought to be Nick Faldo's butler." Reilly even indulged in a bit of racial profiling when he suggested that Team Europe included too many Scandinavians. ("Too nice," he explained. "There's a reason no Scandinavian has ever won a major.") The Americans, by contrast, were "tougher than a three-dollar steak," said Reilly.

"Paul Azinger beat cancer," said Reilly. "You think they're going to be scared?"

As the players prepared to strike the first ball, the telecast suggested that things might get ugly when it cut to footage of the previous evening's "pep rally", with Azinger and his squad, clad in stars-and-stripes T-shirts, tossing trinkets from the stage as they whipped the crowd into a mouth-frothing frenzy.

OVER THE YEARS Phil Mickelson has been paired with Corey Pavin, Jay Haas, Davis Love III, Tom Lehman, David Duval, Jim Furyk, David Toms, Tiger Woods, and Chris DiMarco, but for reasons that didn't seem entirely clear at the time, ESPN's Mike Tirico described his latest as "a great pairing for Phil".

"Maybe Anthony Kim can be the Sergio Garcia of the American team," said the announcer.

I found myself thinking back to 1989, when Tom Watson sent Mark Calcavecchia, the defending British Open champion, out with Ken Green three times in two days at the Belfry. When I wondered why, a grizzled tour veteran explained that it was "because nobody else will play with him" - meaning Green, not Calcavecchia.

Despite having had several weeks to prepare, the announcing team stumbled when it came to the third match of the day, describing Stewart Cink as "a wild-card pick". (He was two years ago at The K-Club, but for this one he earned his spot on his own steam.) A bit over four hours later, Justin Rose and Ian Poulter three-putted the final hole to hand their match to Cink and Chad Campbell, thus ensuring the Americans their first Friday-morning lead since 1991, and it actually could have been even worse: after raving about the composure of native Kentuckian Kenny Perry all morning, the telecast turned to near-silence when Perry pots his drive on number 18 into the water to hand Lee Westwood-Sergio Garcia a halve in their match. With all but one foursomes match going down to the final hole, the transition from the ESPN crew to NBC's announcing team was somewhat less than seamless.

Nick Faldo appeared to have drawn his pairings out of a hat, but his American counterpart was more imaginative in drawing up his Friday afternoon batting order. In addition to riding the Mickelson-Kim horse again, Azinger submitted a line-up that included all-Texan (Justin Leonard and Hunter Mahan) and all-Redneck (Boo Weekley and JB Holmes) teams.

With Friday's afternoon pairings, Faldo's butler (Wilson) became the only member of either side not to see action on the opening day. Getting the remaining Scandinavian into action provided the TV folks with the opportunity to inform their audience Soren Hansen had prepared for the experience by soliciting the advice of Bjorn Borg. Baffled viewers wondering what a Swedish tennis player could tell a Danish golfer about the Ryder Cup were still doubtless scratching their heads when the announcer came back to explain he had meant ("of course") Thomas Bjorn, not Bjorn Borg.

Throughout the afternoon Weekley played to the crowd, encouraging their raucous behaviour with Leonardesque celebrations, including on at least a few occasions when the opposition had yet to putt. Apart from cutting to shots of icy glares that emanated from Westwood on these occasions, the broadcasters did not seem to offer significant disapprobation.

"At least wait until you're off the green," muttered the Englishman.

Boo, however, seemed unrepentant. "I wasn't trying to be disrespectful," Weekley protested later. "That's just part of who I am." Right. Stupid.

Azinger conceded he had encouraged the lack of decorum among the gallery, whom he had collectively designated "the 13th man". "If we lose a hole or miss a putt over there (in Europe), they cheer," said the American captain. "I just wanted to make sure they understood they can cheer for us even if somebody misses a putt for us to win a hole."

One wondered what Ryder Cup Azinger watched two years ago. Thinking back to The K Club, I couldn't recall a single instance of the behaviour he was describing.

Going into the matches, the made-for-TV storyline appeared to be the 48-year-old Perry and his single-minded determination to qualify for an event that would be played in his home state, but before the first day was over it was clear Boo Weekley was going to be the poster boy for the 37th Ryder Cup.

Boo, who might as well have played wearing a coonskin cap, was occasionally refreshing ("I start every round so nervous I feel like I'm going to puke on my shoes") and seemed genuinely surprised when he walked off a green after a winning birdie putt to be rewarded by a fist-bump from the ubiquitous Michael Jordan.

"I didn't have any idea," exclaimed Boo, "that sucker was so tall!" It was the first of three days' worth of TV cameos for MJ, who despite the presence of a former president (Bush I) emerged as the most prominent member of the gallery, although after years of watching him do it, I must confess that I'm still wondering exactly what qualifies Jordan to be inside the ropes at the Ryder Cup.

By the time the sun set on Louisville, the US team had staked itself to a three-point lead. The NBC announcers bade farewell to the ESPN set, leaving Reilly to mix his metaphors in summarising the surprising turn of events.

Americans, said Reilly, had become accustomed to viewing the Ryder Cup like the biennial visit of a despised uncle, but Friday's slate of matches had been more like "an all-you-can-eat buffet".

DIDN'T ANYBODY TELL Faldo pastels went out with the 1970s? When the Europeans showed up for Day Two it was hard to tell whether they were supposed to be UN peacekeepers, Dutch airplanes, or the Bluebirds of Happiness.

The Valhalla starter did his bit for international diplomacy, turning Henrik Stenson into a German when he announced him as "Heinrich" on the first tee. More significantly, when the morning matches began, the two most experienced European Ryder Cuppers were in the clubhouse. (The television audience was told that Garcia was being treated with antibiotics for an undisclosed malady, and that Westwood was suffering from blisters.) NBC, which had the weekend rights, trotted out a bewildering array of experts. Johnny Miller, Roger Maltbie, Andy North, Bob Murphy, Gary Koch, and Mark Rolfing had all played professionally with varying degrees of success, though only Miller and North ever made a Ryder Cup team.

The problem was that all of them speak in the flat Midwestern monotone of an airline pilot delivering his pre-flight announcement, and unless somebody called them by their first name, you never knew who was speaking.

Which was sometimes just as well. When Perry struck his approach shot to one green in his morning foursomes match one of the ex-tour pros shouted excitedly "Come on, ball! Be right! Get in the hole!" Even as they increasingly abandoned any sense of journalistic detachment, the NBC announcers seemed by their silence to be abetting the absence of decorum on the part of the American players and fans.

Interestingly, the weekend telecast included several PGA-sponsored promos for its "First Tee" programme. Having demonstrated how young golfers were learning the etiquette of the game, the network would cut back to show the crowd breaking into celebration whenever a European shot found sand or water.

Although Saturday afternoon featured some of the greatest individual golf in Ryder Cup history, the US telecast tended to focus on the big picture (we're kicking their butts), while developing viewer affinity with its newly-anointed stars of the week. (Chiefly, Boo.) That a matchplay format is still alien to the American concept of golf was illustrated time and again. After a European opponent conceded a putt, Miller wondered aloud "then why is he putting this one?" "He needs to make it for the half, Johnny," one of his broadcast partners explained wearily.

The lone distaff member of the crew, former LPGA star Dottie Pepper, noted at one point that "the Americans seem a bit tight. There's not much conversation going on between them, but the Europeans are bantering back and forth." Then, as the Americans reasserted their position and appeared to be ensured of a lead going into Sunday, the telecast caught up with Jordan, whom the cameras ambushed as he lolled beneath a tree adjacent to a par-three hole.

I was reminded of another occasion, beside another Ryder Cup par-three, the 16th at Brookline in 1999, where I plopped myself down beneath another tree only to find Jordan seated next to me. Since the Pádraig Harrington-Mark O'Meara match had just reached the green, MJ quickly put his finger to his lips and whispered "shh". He should have done the same to the NBC cameraman on Saturday.

Jordan would clearly have preferred to just watch the golf, but Dan Hicks attempted to engage him in conversation. Noting that Michael undoubtedly had Woods on speed-dial, he instructed him, "Tell Tiger to come out tomorrow. We'd like to have him here for the celebration."

The Europeans had appeared destined to drastically reduce the Americans' lead, but Weekley followed a birdie on the 14th by playing a difficult bunker shot to two feet on the next hole, and Westwood and Hansen lost the match 2 and 1. Asked afterward where the bunker shot ranked on his list of all-time greatest shots, Boo replied: "I'd say about ninth. I done had eight hole in ones."

AS SUNDAY'S TELECAST began Dan Hicks noted the unaccustomed position of the Americans and says it would be "devastating" if the home side didn't win.

The first match of the day labled "Ole v LA," pitted Kim against Garcia, and promised high drama when both hit darts with their approaches to the first green for matching birdies. Not long thereafter, though, the match took on the trappings of a rout, and when Garcia followed a misplayed sixth by putting two balls into the water on number seven (both loudly cheered by the gallery), he slumped off in the direction of the next tee.

"He just doesn't want to lose any more golf balls," chortled one of the NBC announcers.

Despite the presence of several tight matches on the course, television seemed determined to stick with this one long after it had become a rout. Garcia was described as "an annoying gnat," while Kim, it was noted, had replaced his "AK" belt buckle with an even gaudier one that said "USA". The US team was outfitted in Tigeresque Sunday red for the singles. Azinger had encouraged the gallery to dress likewise, rather in the manner of Nebraska football fans.

There is nothing quite so gut-wrenching as a Ryder Cup singles match, but the American telecast seemed to shun the mano-a-mano drama of the individual games and spent most of the afternoon displaying a colour-coded chart of all 12 matches, indicating which country led in each. It had all the suspense of an election-night recap of the electoral college, and as the red-and-white symbols began to predominate on the big board, the assumption is that most of armchair America was already reaching for their remotes to check on their NFL bets.

When Kim holed out on the 14th to close his match 5 and 4 with Garcia, he strutted off in the direction of the 15th tee, not even aware that the match was over. (When he finally did figure it out, Anthony did a little impromptu dance with Azinger, and was next spotted, half an hour later, lolling about on a shaded bridge, with Michael Jordan). The clinching moment for the Americans came not on a dramatic putt, but when Miguel Angel Jiminez conceded a short putt to Jim Furyk on the 17th green. Several matches remained in progress on the course, and the network pulled out all stops as it tried to preserve its dwindling audience.

As Campbell struggled to maintain his lead in his by now-meaningless match against Padraig Harrington, Dan Hicks took a deep breath and before explaining to viewers that the Texas native was undoubtedly preoccupied, not by the celebration taking place elsewhere on the course, but by his apprehension over that evening's Dallas Cowboys-Green Bay Packers contest - "a game you can watch right here on NBC".