Ryder Rapture.

Let's face it. My punditry skills suck. Though I did predict a European victory, my take on outcomes in today's singles matches sucked. It's just as well I didn't have bets on, but then again after Graham McDowell wrapped up proceedings on the 17th hole, I wish I had. Boylesports said they would refund bets if an Irishman sunk the winning putt. If I was Boylesports CEO, I'd be looking for the head of my marketing manager and forcing him to government buildings, cap in hand, looking for a big fat bailout. Then I'd renege on all the refunds, citing that Hunter Mahan actually conceded, hence forcing McDowell to shake his hands instead of holing out like other Irish legends, O'Connor, Walton and McGinley. If that didn't work, I'd skip town and head for my Hampton Heap and dodge Charlie Bird for a spell. I told you before, I deal in the absurd!

Luke Donald, Ian Polter, Angel Jimenez and G-Mac himself provided four of the five points Europe needed with Rory McIlroy and Eduardo Molinari weighing in with a half each. It was enough to see Europe fall over the line after a valiant effort by the Americans to haul back an overnight deficit of three points. Tiger Woods nailed the second Molinari brother by hitting -9 through fourteen holes. Phil Mickelson found his form at last and rookie Ricky Fowler showed he's a superstar in the making by making birdie on the final four holes to secure a half again Eduardo Molinari. At this stage Monty must have been bricking himself, but a superb birdie on 16 by US Open champion McDowell, once again proved the notion that great champions have nerves of steel at the critical moments, and a little self belief can go a long way. Mahan's concession (cough, cough) sent the Welsh crowd into a frenzy in scenes reminiscent of the K Club in 2006, but just not quite as good. The Ryder Cup was home.

A win is a win, and in a sport that prides itself on an esteemed history, it was nice to see the battle conclude in such an epic way with sportsmanship and mutual respect to the fore. Tiger's on his way home to plot a course to his next major title and Monty gets to taste the glory he denied himself on the Major circuit. His career deserved the major, and one hopes this win will go someway in making up for that notable absence on a prolific CV. He could still win one yet, I wonder what the odds are?
So it turned into another G-Mac day. That's two this year. New Year's Honour on the way.

My mind drifts back, as it does at times, to the opening ceremony and Corey Pavin's omission of Stewart Cink in his introductory speech. I thought about how the universe works sometimes and then I stopped, because I really haven't a clue. Perhaps if Cory had introduced Cink properly, Stewie might have sunk one of the three tiddlers he had against Rory McIlroy in their match. He'd have won the point, and I'd be writing about something else tonight. But then Stewie was never one to let a dream scenario play out in the land of fairytale. Remember what he did to poor ol' Tom Watson... but that's another story.

Roll on Medina in 2012.
Hmm, Medina, in the year of the Mayan. Two years after Mahan folded.
There may be a novel there. Where's Dan Brown when you need him?