Wrapping Up the Ryder Cup, Or Why Boo Weekley Should Be in the White House

Boo Weekley for Vice President
I’m serious. Enough of this bogus Sarah Palin crap. That Happy Gilmore business down the first fairway? Are you kidding me? You want the folksy front-porch populist vote, Insane in the McCain, drop the Tina Fey lookalike and get Super Boo up in that joint. He might not be a moose-hunter, but lemme tell you something -- if a moose looks at him crosseyed, he kicks its sorry ass back to Moosetown. That’s just how Boo do.

James Bond Is So 1987
Is it me, or is Nick Faldo’s oily British gadabout routine wearing a little thin? How about that concession speech? “Well, it’s just come down to fractions hasn’t it?” Yeah Nick, fractions. Like you won 11.5/28ths of the available points and we won 16.5/28ths. And thus, we beat your smarmy James Bonditude right in the Ass-ton Martin. Go soak in a martini bath and call MJ on your shoephone.

What Would Paul Azinger Do?
I have a confession to make -- I’ve always hated Paul Azinger. I’ve heard some bad things from industry folks (let’s just say that The Zinger, is, ah, socially conservative) and he generally strikes me like the kind of guy who if you beat him 30 straight times in arm-wrestling he’d show up at your house drunk at two in the morning wanting to go again. While I have some admiration for such types in my heart, as a rule I try to avoid that kind of “negative macho energy” (in the immortal words of Bukowski) as often as possible. So I am humbled to admit today that he is, for at least another 25 minutes, my new hero. What would the Zinger do? I’ll ask myself in times of duress. “Dave,” he’ll say, “it’s simple -- make J.B. Holmes a captain’s pick and kick off the singles with Anthony Kim.” A veritable blueprint for living.

Did the Secret Plan Involve Playing Really Really Good?
All my newfound love for Zinger aside, did you catch his mysterious asides to Jimmy Roberts about the secret plan he’d devised for the Cup? I am always a little puzzled when these golf captain dudes sit around talking about all their strategy and whatnot. I remember having a similar reaction to Ben Crenshaw making out like he was Vince Lombardi during the ’99 Cup at Brookline. Like, how much strategy is involved? You pair them up and put them in an order and ... look I just want to hear exactly what this secret plan was anyway. I’m thinking point number one was, “Make a lot of fricking birdies.”

The Harder They Fall
This Ryder Cup will primarily be remembered as being dominated by the Little Engines That Could, because the big dogs just did not hunt, especially them Euro hounds. Paddy Bear Harrington? 0-3-1. Sergio Valente Garcia? 0-2-2. Lee Westwood One? 0-2-2. On the American side of the ball, the great Phil Mickelson once again proved that he is not a team player, posting a 1-2-2 mark on the weekend to boost his career Ryder Cup mark to .500, 10-10-5.

In conclusion, I think that I can only sum up my feelings by turning to the wonderful world of anime. Boo, I send this one right out to you with the all the best of my raging manlove. Call me, g.

This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.