Teamwork? It’s not the American way

For a nation which gave us a brilliant TV show called Band of Brothers, the Americans find it hard to bond like brothers, or even second cousins. Gratifyingly, they seem to loathe each other. The best part of Europe winning the Ryder Cup, especially with a thrashing, is always the American meltdown afterwards.

Four years ago in Scotland, Phil Mickelson gave his captain, the much-loved Tom Watson, a full barrel–load post-match. ‘We have strayed from a winning formula,’ was the gist. Later, when asked about Mickelson’s disloyalty, Watson replied with customary courtesy: ‘He has a difference of opinion. That’s OK. My management philosophy is different than his. It takes 12 players to win…’

In Paris, Mickelson’s played so dismally he had the grace to shut up. It was left to Masters champion Patrick Reed to take up the mantle. He said Jordan Spieth didn’t want to play with him and slagged off Jim Furyk’s decision to drop him for two sessions. ‘I don’t have any issue with Jordan,’ said Reed, who doesn’t seem to be universally loved, even in his own family. ‘I don’t care if I like the person I’m paired with, or if the person likes me, as long as it works.’ As for Furyk’s tactics: ‘For somebody as successful in the Ryder Cup as I am, I don’t think it’s smart to sit me out twice.’ Ouch. Meanwhile, Dustin Johnson and Brooks Koepka, the two top-ranked US players and one-time best buds, were at each others’ throats in the European team room. All in all, it couldn’t have gone better.

Why are the Americans so damn cocky, despite a poor away record? Only Justin Thomas, easily America’s leading points scorer, had bothered to come and check out the course at the French Open.