Eyes on the prize

Montgomerie’s Ryder Cup record is exemplary, but as captain he’s wise enough to draw on the strengths of others to achieve victory

EUROPE’S defeat at Valhalla Golf Club, Louisville, Kentucky two years ago set in motion a series of events that culminated in the accession of Colin Montgomerie as Ryder Cup captain for the biennial clash with the Americans, starting this Friday at Celtic Manor in Wales.

The fast-tracking process has a direct correlation to the tenure of the previous incumbent, Nick Faldo. Privately, the European Tour might have realised that they could no longer afford to hand out the captaincy simply as a testimonial to a player boasting an impressive playing CV in a previous incarnation as a golfer: other qualities were desirable, figuratively and practically.

Europe’s success in winning five of the previous six Ryder Cups was largely attributed to the camaraderie within the team and the passion of the players for the event itself. It was a common conversational thread when players articulated reasons outside the golfing vernacular in explaining the run of victories.

Montgomerie offered impeccable captaincy credentials based both on the bare statistics of his Ryder Cup record (so did Faldo, but he lacked the selflessness and personality to inspire) and the massive shadow he cast over the eight contests in which he participated. The Scot inherited Seve Ballesteros’s mantle as the on-course leader in a succession of European teams and shouldered the burden with remarkable ease.

He was expected to assume the role in 2014 when the tournament would be staged in his native Scotland, at Gleneagles. Valhalla altered the timeframe. Montgomerie’s name was put forward by a number of his peers at a European Tour Tournament Committee meeting in January 2009. He was present and the anticipation was that he would

graciously decline: his silence spoke volumes and his captaincy was formally ratified.

The Ryder Cup has defined Montgomerie as a golfer, arguably more so than his achievement of topping the European Order of Merit seven times in succession and eight in total, or his three runner-up finishes in Major championships.

Away from the biennial contest, the Scot polarises public opinion, inspiring a smorgasbord of adjectives to either defend or criticise his on- and off-course behaviour.

He suffers from a Jekyll and Hyde syndrome. He is often intelligent, charming and, from a media perspective, eminently quotable and forthright on most topics. On other occasions he presents a bad-tempered, surly, arrogant demeanour that manifests itself in the haranguing of marshals, photographers and sundry members of the general public.

In golfing speak, he is afflicted with “rabbit’s ears”, a term used to identify a golfer whose concentration can be shattered by the faintest noise, a state of chassis so beautifully observed by PG Wodehouse when lamenting “the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows” as a distraction for some golfers.

The Ryder Cup has also proved a safe haven from the periodic maelstrom of his private life. In the same month – September 2004 – that he was divorced by his then wife of 14 years, Montgomerie played a pivotal role in ensuring that a European team under the baton of Bernhard Langer retained the Ryder Cup by beating the US at Oakland Hills in

Detroit.

The Scot’s tears on the home green after holing the putt that guaranteed the triumph on that Sunday afternoon, beating David Toms in the singles, highlighted an emotional rawness that had nothing to do with the golf.

His private life has made front-page headlines again of late as Monty strayed out of bounds away from the course, forcing a public apology to his current wife Gaynor Knowles (they married in April 2008) after he allegedly reignited a relationship with an old flame, Joanne Baldwin.

It lent a hollow ring to comments he made earlier in the year in a newspaper with regard to Tiger Woods’s extra-marital affairs. Montgomerie said at the time:

“Turning up at Celtic Manor could be one of the hardest things Tiger ever does. He will worry about how the wives of the other players will react to him. Some of them might find it hard to welcome Tiger back into the group.” The sound of domestic glass shattering in the background was unmistakable.

It won’t distract from his captaincy. He hasn’t allowed anything to do so as a player, and there’s no reason to suspect he will do so now. Monty intelligently realises the importance of giving himself the best chance of securing

victory for Europe.

He has surrounded himself with four vice captains who share his passion for the Ryder Cup, even though he would have exchanged heated words with two –Thomas Bjorn and Darren Clarke – in the past. He is likely to be a thoughtful captain in the Langer mould, receptive to his players’ needs, sentiments that appear alien outside of that one-week window every two years.

While it would be overstating things a tad to label him a loner, he can be found dining in the caddy shack during the normal tournament tour schedule. During the Ryder Cup, though, the Scot exudes an evangelical zeal for a tournament he could consider to be his own private fiefdom.

The subtle difference is that this time he must lead by word and not deed, although he may delegate any derring-do speeches to Paul McGinley or Sergio Garcia. He’ll be well organised, inclusive and passionate in his desire to win back the trophy.

The final words should be his own: “I believe that my Ryder Cup record will be my legacy. A victory as captain would complete that.”