GolfTipping Point

Ryder Cup is packed with noise and needle, and for a respectful game it is a high-wire act

The atmosphere at Whistling Straits was revolting at times. The abuse of the European players reached such levels that some US players tried to dial down the crowd

There is a story from the final day of the toxic Ryder Cup at Brookline in 1999 that is buried under the infamous mayhem. Not long after Justin Leonard’s 45-foot birdie putt had triggered a buck-leppin’ invasion of the 17th green – before Jose Maria Olazabal could attempt his putt for a half – the match between Payne Stewart and Colin Montgomerie reached the final hole.

The United States had already won the Ryder Cup, but every singles match is played to a conclusion and the game between Montgomerie and Stewart was all square. In the normal course of events on the PGA Tour Monty was a popular target for taunting from the American galleries, exacerbated by his canine sense of hearing when he was standing over a shot, and his cartoon characterisation as Mrs Doubtfire from the Robin Williams movie. It was trolling, before the term existed.

At Brookline, though, the American galleries escalated their boorishness. Monty’s father left the golf course, unable to stomach any more of the abuse, and on two occasions Stewart asked for fans to be ejected from the grounds. John Feinstein, a great golf writer, walked every step with that match.

“The most oft-used phrase directed at Montgomerie that day rhymes with ‘fat runt,’” wrote Feinstein. “Stewart did everything in his power to protect Montgomerie while also trying to win the match, but there was only so much he could do.”

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On the 18th green Montgomerie had a 25-foot birdie chance to win and Stewart conceded the putt. As Stewart started walking towards him Monty could see the gesture his opponent was about to make and started applauding.

“I really didn’t care about my individual record,” Stewart said afterwards. “After what Colin had been through no way was I making him putt that.”

Their match captured the best and worst of the modern Ryder Cup. No other event in men’s golf is adrenalised with such partisanship and noise and needle, and for a game that swears by its good manners and courtesy it is a high-wire act. The Ryder Cup, for golf, is like college rag week: off the leash.

In such a feverish environment it is difficult to strike a balance between the raucousness that makes the Ryder Cup so intoxicating, and the respectfulness that defines golf. The atmosphere at the last Ryder Cup at Whistling Straits was revolting at times. The abuse of the European players reached such debased levels that Dustin Johnson, Jordan Spieth and Tony Finau all tried to dial down the American crowd.

On the giant screens at the venue there was a clear warning about the consequences of unacceptable fan behaviour. “Any individual, or group, that verbally abuses, taunts or shouts insults at players, caddies, captains, officials or their families will be immediately removed from the premises.”

Imagine the need for such a warning at a golf event? Padraig Harrington, the European captain, said months later that he met European fans who were “intimidated into not cheering. Every time they cheered or clapped they were getting abuse from outside the ropes.”

Shane Lowry said that his wife and father got “dog’s abuse” at Whistling Straits.

At Ryder Cups in the United States this behaviour has become a pattern. At Valhalla in 2008 Lee Westwood and his parents were abused. That was the year when the US captain Paul Azinger attended a pep rally at Louisville on the week of the matches and encouraged the fans to cheer when European players missed. Only in golf does that feel counter-intuitive.

In every field sport in the world fans cheer when the opposition messes up and nobody gives it a second thought. In professional football the chanting and the hand gestures from the crowd can be obscene and mindless, and you can tell in the TV coverage when the background noise has been turned down that something base has erupted from the belly of the crowd. Football has made attempts to address this behaviour but is miles from succeeding. For an element of the crowd it is part of the culture.

Golf is played in a different spirit. In your Sunday fourball good shots are acknowledged by your playing partners. In the professional game it is harder to impress your peers, but really good shots are greeted with a raised thumb or a fast compliment all the time. In the galleries, at regular tournaments, every good shot is applauded. You will have your favourite players, but what you’ve really come to see is brilliance, without prejudice.

In an ever-coarsening world those traditions are worth protecting. Depending on where you look golf can be exclusive and stuffy and pompous, but standing over a golf ball with that terrible dread of where the hell it’s going to end up is one of sport’s great equalisers. It is why good shots are admired.

On Ryder Cup week, though, the rules of engagement are different. It is the only event when some players will ask for noise from the gallery as they tee off rather than expect church-like silence. Celebrations are exaggerated: more mouthy, more showy, more “look-at-me”. That’s what the galleries want at the Ryder Cup: showmanship, emotion.

In the crowds there will be more colour and more kooky costumes than at any other event in golf. The tension and the noise will be terrific. Hype is a huge part of major sports events now, and sometimes it can taste like three spoons of sugar in your tea. The Ryder Cup is like that. But once it starts it is absolutely compelling. The golf always feels raw: great players are elevated and great players are reduced.

Historically the fan behaviour at Ryder Cups in Europe has been respectful, though it would be foolish to rule out the risk of contagion. If that remains the case is it enough for the Ryder Cup that every second event is played in the right atmosphere?

A week after the last Ryder Cup Lowry was asked for his reflections and to look ahead. He looked past Rome and mentioned the next American Ryder Cup in New York, where the golf fans have a certain reputation. “Bethpage in 2025,” he said, “is going to be horrendous.”

Anyway. This week first. Once more into the bear-pit.