Back in the eighties was the first time I heard the concept of a “European Union.”
“The single European market,” they said.
At school.
Without getting into politics—though politics is everything—I never felt any identity or belonging to something called Europe.
A supposed union of countries that for generations had devoted themselves to hating and killing each other.
That never made sense to me.
And it still doesn’t. Here we are again, the usual ones talking about how we must turn against each other, buy more weapons, and all that.
But let’s get back to our game.
It took 32 years for me to feel that Europe was actually something. And it wasn’t in Brussels.
It was in Paris in 2018. You could find me at Le Golf National on Sunday, September 30th of that year, thanks to a last-minute ticket the European Tour offered me, on one of those whirlwind trips you just improvise.
In that suburban place I witnessed the best kind of war: one decided across a green field, hitting a little ball fewer times than your opponent until it finds the hole.
This wasn’t Eurovision.
It was open field near Versailles, full of hordes of European soldiers—tens of thousands of English, Germans, French, Spaniards, Italians…
United under real leaders, respecting their rivals, fighting to the death in sporting duels.
The further the day went on, the more epic it became.
Rory, García, Molinari, Fleetwood, Poulter…
Woods, Mickelson, DJ, Fowler, Bubba…
Hard to explain—this level of collective emotion can only be faked in Hollywood movies.
But this wasn’t a movie. This was real.
And it wasn’t Hollywood. It was MolliWood.
You know, the unstoppable duo who won every match they played (Molinari and Fleetwood).
The Foursomes. The Fourballs. They took it all.
As a spectator, you placed yourself in the spot where you wished your ball could have landed.
And the crowd would erupt when the ball actually landed there.
Those were our generals. That was leadership.
I still like to rewatch the videos from that day. The day I felt European for the first time.
Tomorrow the Ryder begins. I won’t be in New York, though I’d love to.
But we’ll always have Paris.
Have a great weekend, golfers! Enjoy this Ryder Cup!
P.S.1. I’ve opened a news section on my site. P.S.2. One of those posts sums up everything you need to know for Ryder 2025.