There is a certain irony to the fact that the Ryder Cup, golf’s biennial model of international decorum, was for many years overlooked in America; treated, to quote Herbert Warren Wind, “as a little get-together on about the same level as a member-guest tournament.”

Those days are gone, of course, with Samuel Ryder’s cup no longer symbolizing much in the way of goodwill or sportsmanship, replaced instead by the jingoistic tones deemed necessary to overflow the coffers of the co-sponsoring organizations, the PGA of America and Ryder Cup Europe.  The shame of this is that taken on its own merit, the event should be uniquely wonderful.  Contested every other year amongst the two continent’s finest golfers, it offers a singular opportunity for meaningful team play (with all of the associated drama and pressures) in a sport otherwise organized solely around individuals.

Though perhaps not on par with the four Majors, the Ryder Cup certainly offers its own unique catalog of memories.  Memories of Walter Hagen, Ben Hogan and Sam Snead; of the visiting American’s once-traditional visit to Harry Vardon’s grave site; of their indomitable opponents, men like Ballesteros, Faldo and that most unsung of Ryder Cup stars, Peter Oosterhuis; of Europe’s remarkable resurgence under Tony Jacklin’s leadership; and, amidst a sea of heartbreaking losses and spectacular wins, memories of the epic American comeback of 1999.

So why this contemporary descent into cheap carnival antics?

It is easy to lay blame solely upon the American PGA, which has seldom missed on an opportunity to squeeze every last nickel from every last pocketbook — including those of its membership.  But we in the media are equally to blame, attempting to pump up ratings by willingly going along for the PGA’s marketing ride.  Instead of recalling that most of these European nations are our friends and allies, we follow the PGA’s lead in using such sophomoric tag phrases as “The War At The Shore,” and pay far more attention to breaches of etiquette than acts of sportsmanship.

This too is ironic given that one of golf’s all-time gentlemanly moments occurred at the Ryder Cup, in 1969 at Royal Birkdale.  With the teams tied at 15½ points apiece, the entire event came down to the final singles match between Jack Nicklaus and Tony Jacklin.  All square coming to the last green, Nicklaus coolly holed a tricky four-footer for par, then immediately conceded Jacklin’s shorter putt for a half, allowing the overall match to finish in a 16-16 tie.  Such an ending averted what surely would have been an ugly American victory had Jacklin missed, while still allowing Nicklaus & Co. to retain the cup, which they’d won handily in Houston two years earlier.

Would any of today’s stars dare to do the same?

We’d certainly like to think so, but what price might they pay?  Would heckling fans and corporate patrons in overpriced tents scream bloody murder?  Would the player’s own teammates publicly denounce the decision (as several of Nicklaus’s were rumored to have done privately)?  And if such a gesture of sportsmanship did take place, would the media cover it for as long, and with as much fire, as they did the “scandal” of the American team’s high-profile celebration in 1999?

Perhaps then, this might be a good time to remind all concerned that Europeans in general, and the British in particular, are not our enemies.  On the contrary, we have fought history’s two greatest conflicts at Great Britain’s side, and they are by far America’s closest friend and ally in these present troubled times.

All that, and they invented the bloody game!

So now more than ever, let us remember what the Ryder Cup is supposed to be: A spirited match between friends, an international celebration of the Royal & Ancient game.

And if so honorable an approach fails to satisfy the PGA’s financial goals, perhaps they might arrange an off-years match with a team of Iranian golfers.  Now that’s an idea the Palm Beach Gardens marketing boys can sink their teeth into!