Colin Sheridan: America's early collapse leaves to much to do 

Fans had cleared their diaries, cancelled plans, and faked their own deaths in HR systems to carve out three days of uninterrupted spectacle. They were promised duels, late-night tension, the crackle of hostility across the fairways. What they got was a European victory parade delivered two days early.

DISAPPOINTING: Let us not mince words: America failed this Ryder Cup - not simply on the scoreboard, though their collapse was of biblical proportions - but in spirit, in theatre, in the very basic courtesy of sticking around long enough to lose properly. Pic: Vaughn Ridley/Sportsfile

It is a rare and precious thing when a sporting contest collapses so comprehensively that one feels cheated not just of drama, but of time itself. The Ryder Cup of 2025, dressed up as the "Super Bowl of golf," turned out to be more of a parish raffle: all noise, bunting, and promises, before collapsing into anticlimax by Friday night. All swing - as my father used to say - and no hit.

Let us not mince words: America (and not Sky Sports, for once) failed this Ryder Cup - not simply on the scoreboard, though their collapse was of biblical proportions - but in spirit, in theatre, in the very basic courtesy of sticking around long enough to lose properly. By Friday evening, the whole thing was so dead you half expected the priest to be called. Instead, what remained was two days of golf embalming, witnessed by people in face paint and those inflatable Uncle Sam hats that make grown men look like toddlers who lost a bet.