The trouble with Bubba

WHILE it is impossible to be bored by the playing of the Ryder Cup, it is possible to sleep through the lead-in days.

They are that predictable, that scripted. Captains arrive each day, answer questions and run through strategies as if in a world peace initiative. Faces are grim, talk serious, the mere pleasures of golf are not on the menu. But the boredom got thickest on Tuesday with Bubba Watson.

It should be said up front that Watson, like haggis, is an acquired taste. His two Masters victories, his homegrown swing, his ability to shape shots in any direction... well, it’s loveable stuff to legions of fans. Admittedly, my membership card has never been requested. Tough taste, that Bubba.