First of all, congrats to our American friends and readers of this blog who enjoyed an outstanding Solheim Cup last week, all masterminded by their captain, Stacy Lewis (above).

A self-confessed number cruncher and stats nerd, Stacy dived deep into the analytics to come up with her pairings and every tiny detail of every day was planned so that her team had no thinking or responsibilities aside from their jobs on the course.  And boy, did it work beautifully.

The first time I saw this level of preparation by a captain was at the 2014 Ryder Cup when Paul McGinley took the role of leading a golf team to a new level.  It’s not enough to know your own team and their games, you also need to know your opponents’.  That’s why the Robert Trent Jones course in Virginia was set up to leave the US players with so many second shots requiring 6-, 7- or 8- irons in.  This was the team’s strength and where they had an edge over the Europeans and as the home team they were entitled to have some input into the course set-up.

Of course, your team has to perform on the course but when a year’s worth of stats backs up your decisions and pairings, your players buy into it all in a big way.  They understand the whys and wherefores of each of the captain’s decisions and the result is the creation of a platform for the team to perform to the best of their ability on that given week.  Stacy managed this beautifully.

Alas, it’s the destiny of a losing captain to carry the can for defeat and, while it’s never only the captain’s fault, last week there were some very strange decisions by Suzann Pettersen, the European leader.  She openly admitted that the feedback she garnered from last year’s encounter highlighted the need for better communication between herself and her players, yet her astounding decision to play Leona Maguire only once prior to the singles went unexplained to the Irish player.

Suzann also declined to elaborate on her decision at the conclusion of the matches.  It’s one thing not giving an explanation to the media, quite another not giving one to one of your players who owns a superb record in the Solheim Cup.  Granted Leona hasn’t had her best year but the captain seriously underestimated the ability of a player like Maguire to find “it” in the heat of battle.

The only comment on the situation from the Irish player came in the form of the tweet below, taken from the golfdigest.com X feed.  ‘Nuff said.

In her fourball match Leona was paired with Georgia Hall against world No 1 Nelly Korda and the firecracker that is Megan Khang.  It was hard to believe we were seeing Korda in her fourth Solheim Cup and she was yet to be on a winning side.  In those Friday fourballs, however, Nelly was sublime and when the Americans eagled the 12th hole they were dormie.  A further eagle on 14 by Korda closed the match out 6 and 4.  When Nelly putts well no one can live with her.  When Nelly looks happy, smiles on the course and seems to be enjoying herself, the opposition better look out.

A couple of other things surprised me as well.  Suzann and Emily Pedersen are very close friends but I was astounded she played Emily five times.  The Dane is one of the best ball strikers in the game, a joy to watch but if she has an achilles heel it’s her putting.  I lost count of the number of times Pedersen didn’t even hit the hole from 8-20 feet over the first three sessions.  It was well into double figures.  Was that not reported back to the captain by the assistants assigned to those matches?  If it was, it carried little weight, with the player getting the nod for the Saturday fourballs and a high placing (second) in the singles order.  The ball striking counts for little if you can’t get the ball in the hole.

Over the first day the Americans stuffed the Europeans on the greens and the 6-2 deficit at day’s end was ultimately too much to overcome.  They had managed to claw back a whitewash in the first series last year and earn a tie overall but this time it was not to be.  The golf was mesmerising, the atmosphere electric and there was an hour and a half in the middle of the Sunday singles where the Americans must have been scratching their heads, wondering just where the final point and a half were going to come from.  That served to raise the hopes of the European fans but ultimately, in the vernacular of the Madill household, it was a BBU – a brave but unavailing effort by the yellow and blues to reach a winning points tally.

Being caught up in the absorbing tussle over the last few points helped dull somewhat the disappointment of Rory McIlroy coming up short at Royal County Down in the Amgen Irish Open.  A couple of late bogeys, a missed 10-footer for eagle on the last and an exemplary 65 by Rasmus Hojgaard, featuring four birdies in the last five holes, sealed the win for the Dane and Rory was consigned to runner-up spot once again.

That’s largely been the story of his year but he did have an unforgettably warm and emotional level of support the entire week from the Irish fans.  I think that’ll be his lasting memory of the week and it was a reminder to him of how much he is loved over in Ireland.  He admitted to being away from the Emerald Isle “too long”.

So, come back more frequently, Rory – it’s good for the soul.  It’s not only grounding to come back to your roots, it’ll help you realise how big a deal the golf is to the Irish.   And perhaps the enormous support, and yes, love, the fans have for you won’t take you quite so much by surprise as it did at the 2019 Portrush Open.  So, come back again and again………and do us all a favour and win the Open at Portrush next July!

Another Solheim Cup is in the books…….. but I wonder how it will be remembered?

In his Saturday morning report Iain Carter, 5 Live’s excellent golf correspondent, said that the venue and levels of organisation were “shambolic”, insulting to the players and fans and that a great many people would be going home disappointed for whatever reason.  Early in the week the spectators were not allowed to take either water or sunscreen into the venue (although this was later rectified) and then, to further compound that bit of nonsense, the concession stands ran out of water!  And the choice of golf course was ludicrous, with massive changes in elevation making it supremely difficult to follow a match from beginning to end.  It looked to me as if the players were being asked to play golf in a velodrome.

Certainly, in my role as armchair critic, I knew instantly that Sky were not providing the television pictures as the production was woeful and certainly not up to Sky’s usual standard.  They were, it turns out, at the mercy of the host broadcaster which can often be tricky.  At one point in the Saturday afternoon fourballs the two Americans teed off on the driveable par 4 opening hole and the cameras never left the players.  Who knows where their drives finished?  It shall forever be a mystery.

Against this background the players from both sides put on a show that was at times brilliant, often scintillating and certainly unforgettable.  Who in their right minds gives any American team a four-up start?  But that’s exactly what Suzann Pettersen’s side did and it was two-and-a-half exhausting days later that the final result concluded in the first-ever halved match in Solheim Cup history.  Fourteen points apiece.  Well, you can’t REALLY expect to win a Solheim or Ryder Cup when your top players don’t perform.  No wins from Georgia Hall (who was two up with two to play but only managed a half), Charley Hull or Céline Boutier in the final series of singles was the stuff of nightmares for their captain.

There are now calls and cries that a halved match is beyond unsatisfactory and that some sort of play-off should be manufactured.  I don’t agree – I don’t think either team deserved to lose and I see no reason why they shouldn’t share the spoils until the next encounter.  And let’s abolish the holders retaining the trophy nonsense.  Why on earth should they?  A draw and a shared trophy are perfectly fine by me.

It seems to be a recurring theme that European-hosted Solheims and Ryder Cups are short on effective organisation for everyone attending the event in a non-working capacity but the euphoria of victories – and ties – washes away and papers over the shortcomings.  I’m glad I wasn’t there, but I’m thrilled to the rafters for two special people – Carlota Ciganda and Marta Figueras Dotti.

I’ve known Carlota since she was fourteen years of age, watching her take her first steps in junior European golf.  And I’ve known Marta, the current chair of the Ladies’ European Tour and “Señora Golf” in Spain since we first played against one another more than forty years ago.  This Solheim Cup in Spain has been the pinnacle of all their ambitions and for Carlota to emerge the heroine with her closing brace of birdies – well, you couldn’t write it.  You could, but “too far-fetched” would have been the verdict of even the most romantic of Holywood script writers.  And yet, it happened – on an amazing Sunday afternoon in sunny Andalucia.

I had predicted months ago that Europe would win.  I was wrong…….but it didn’t feel as though I was.  Congrats all round to both sets of players.

To the organisers – get your act together and start paying proper attention to your supporters and fan base……….or risk losing them.

The focus is now exclusively on Rome and having met up with the sister on Monday evening in the heart of the Eternal city we have now had two days of sight-seeing in this most incredible of places.

Tuesday saw us take a Skip the Line tour of the Vatican museums, the Sistine Chapel and St Peter’s basilica.   Skip the Line would challenge the trades description act as in reality it is Stand in a Marginally Shorter Line tour, but it had to be done.  Our guide rushed us through the Sistine Chapel at a rate of knots but even that didn’t lessen the sensory overload.  As Patricia said, there was really no need to visit the museums because the entire city is a museum.

It was a long ole day and I must confess that I occasionally rued the fact that Michelangelo had lived until the age of 89 in an era when 40 was the average life expectancy.  If he’d been “average” we wouldn’t have had quite so many masterpieces to file past.  But, as we all know, there was nothing remotely average about Michelangelo.

The following day we did a tour of the Colosseum, the Archaelogical Gardens and Palatine Hill.  Amazing, jaw dropping and fabulous from beginning to end with our wonderful guide Barbara.  What a city, what a place and what a privilege to be here.

Now we have the prospect of a gladiatorial contest of a different hue and, come Sunday, there will undoubtedly be many cheers ringing out from the Marco Simone golf course.  Centuries ago the crowds of old in the Colosseum bayed for the Emperor to give the thumbs down, thus sentencing some poor soul to death.  This Sunday I’ll settle for a few rounds of Ole. Ole.

Bring it on.

Well, what a superb contest that was on the Costa del Sol, on a godawful golf course that I’ve unkindly – but with feeling because I spent a lot of time tramping around the bloody place – re-christened Stinka Cortesin.  The resort may be wonderful, the hotel beyond 5-star but the course, described in bunkered mag’s mainly Ryder Cup preview (with a few pages of Solheim) as “renowned across Europe as a gem”, was beyond ghastly.

The players and caddies at the Solheim Cup performed wonders to produce some stunning golf in sometimes sizzling temperatures but it was the fans, not all of us even in the first flush of menopause, let alone youth (whatever that is), who were the real stars.  We all, every single one of us, deserve medals for our efforts – or, at the very least, a vote of thanks and a couple of manageable venues in future.

Fortunately, the Virginia Boys, as I called them (they were old enough not to take offence), who were manning one of the stalls in the Andalucia Plaza, where there was a screen, chairs, not enough parasols and the merchandise shop, assured me that there’s nothing hilly about next year’s venue.  It’s the Robert Trent Jones Golf Club, on the shores of Lake Manassas, in Gainesville, Virginia, just about 3o miles from Washington DC.

And when we’re back in Europe, in 2026, we’ll be in Holland, not renowned for its sharp-edged mountains.  We’ll all be a lot older then, if we’re still around, so the less strain on creaking joints the better…And we’ll probably need the waterproofs.  Europe almost always win in the wet.

Under the nonsensical convention that the holders retain the trophy in the event of a tie, this may technically count as an unprecedented third European win in a row – but I don’t think so, so if they want to win three in a row, they have to start again next year.  As an old golfing friend said to me, “Don’t think this retaining the cup is a good idea.  They should share it.  It WAS a draw.  Both sides made great shots and blunders.”  Alistair Tait, who knows a thing or two about golf, made the same point in his blog entitled “Nothing Wrong With Honours Even”.

I thought it was terrific when the Lions shared the series against the All Blacks in New Zealand, though lots of people moaned and talked about some sort of arbitrary tiebreaker or shootout or whatever.  No way.  They’d fought each other to a standstill and a shared series it was.  One-off games like finals need a decider of some sort but not a series.  Cricket understands draws but most Americans know nothing about cricket and find the concept of a draw anathema, utterly baffling.  They want a winner.  Tell me though, what would have been the point of putting some knackered players, who’d given their all – and a knackered audience – through more, totally unnecessary suffering?

Understandably, having come from 0-4 down, the Europeans celebrated dementedly but it struck me that the Americans, who’d contributed so much to an enthralling contest, didn’t get enough credit – or congratulations.  A few Ryder Cups ago, I remember thinking that I’d keep all camera people, television and photographers, almost everybody in fact, off the green at the end.  There’s such a swarm that the players who’ve completed their match, get swamped and all civility gets swept away.  It’s far too much of an unedifying scrum.

My mate, watching at home on the telly, put it this way:  “Just wish people would not rush on to a green, especially when there is another game behind [Lexi Thompson, who was immense and Emily Pedersen, ditto, the last women out].  US would have been rightly pissed off if Lexi did not close it out.

“Jacklin started this rushing-on nonsense when Torrance holed out and everybody ran after him.  No chance to shake opponent’s hand.  What happened to sportsmanship?  At the Solheim one guy even ran through a bunker to join the celebrations.  Pettersen and Laura D should know better in my opinion…”

And here’s another…

In many ways this match reminded me of Loch Lomond, Killeen Castle (still have no clue how we won that one) and Gleneagles last time out.  As the singles progressed it looked as though the Europeans were doomed to defeat and disappointment, undone ultimately by their abysmal start when they lost the first four foursomes.  They clawed back to 8-all before the 12 singles but towards the end it looked as though everything was going horribly wrong from a European point of view.

By this time I was back watching in the bar at the hotel with a load of other assorted exhausted tragics and WhatsApping Mo, who was glued to the box at home…”Getting tense,” I wrote.  “What do you think?

”Think Lexi and Yin will do us in,” the sister responded….”And wouldn’t trust…[name redacted to protect the innocent]…

”No, not at all and all those little putts missed, we’re doomed….Winning’s so much more fun.

”Yes.  A BBU [brave but unavailing] after the first session.  They’ve run out of gas!”

”Yeah, almost bound to happen.”

”I’d settle for 14-all.”

”Creeping closer.  King is there, Carlota must win in front of el rey….[And she did.  And how.]  So pleased for Carlota, you couldn’t make it up.  Brill.”

”Utterly fantastic!”

”Un-bloody-believable.”

”You know, you think you’ve seen it all and it’s a one-off…..and then it keeps on happening!”

Golf, bloody hell.

 

 

By the time this post hits the unsuspecting public it will all have kicked off.

By “it”, I mean the Solheim Cup, one of the world’s greatest female sporting contests.  It’s all about Europe versus America; it’s about golf; and it’s all happening for the first time in Spain at the Andalucian course, Finca Cortesin, which handily enough, happens to have an adjacent five-star hotel where the two teams will be staying.

This is the eighteenth playing of the match with the United States leading the way with ten victories to the Europeans’ seven, but on this occasion it is Europe who are hoping to achieve three consecutive victories, something which, hitherto, has been beyond their reach.  The Americans have accomplished this feat twice.

A few months ago, when the two teams were shaping up, I boldly predicted a European win but, as is normal for me, I am now second-guessing myself and wondering was I a little too cavalier with my prognostications.  The next three, nail-biting, exhausting days will reveal all.  How can you be exhausted when you have no intention of leaving an armchair for three solid days?  Except, perhaps, to have a little nervous pacing when critical shots are being assessed and re-assessed……..and re re-assessed.  Goodness, I hope the pace of play is on the brisk side of glacial.

Mind you, from what I’ve read of the golf course – built on the site of an old vineyard – it’ll be a tough ole slog for the spectators with some dreadfully long walks from greens to tees, so perhaps the armchair is not a bad option.  The players will be transported in buggies, of course, so good luck to those who wish to follow a particular match.

I remember working at the Ryder Cup match in 2016 at Hazeltine and being struck by the fact that so many of the greens were on plateaus, resulting in the spectators rarely seeing a putt at all.  They could view the players from the knees up and that was about it.  It was a difficult course to commentate on and I recall saying to Padraig Harrington, one of Darren Clarke’s vice captains that year, that despite all the forensic planning that went into such an event, very little regard seemed to be given to the spectators.  Padraig looked at me in a mildly surprised fashion and said with no little irony, “Maureen, what on earth would make you think the fans are considered?”

I have experienced the Solheim Cup in so many different ways – but alas, never as a player.

When the Europeans won at Dalmahoy in 1992 I was playing full time and the team members were all my friends.  We were collectively incensed when it was reported at the beginning of the week that the Americans had stated that, with the possible exception of Lotte Neumann and Laura Davies, none of the other Europeans would have had a sniff of making the US team.  True or not, it was a grave error on their part and provided motivation and determination on a different level for the home side.  It was rumoured that the Europeans covered a dart board in their team room with the photos of certain American players.  I couldn’t possibly comment.  The result was a European victory, arguably one of the greatest sporting achievements in decades.

Four years later, at St Pierre, I was on duty for Radio 5 Live in the very early stages of my commentary career.  I was in the booth at the back of the final green with the inimitable Tony Adamson when the network came to him for an update on the current scores in a series of fourball matches.  As Tony opened his mouth to begin his report all the computers went down.  He never missed a beat.  Without a single note he had perfect recall of who was where on the course, who they were playing with, what the score was and what was the overall match score.  What a masterclass in broadcasting – certainly the most impressive thing I witnessed that week.

The match at Rich Harvest Farms outside Chicago saw me take on a different role – or, rather, an extra one along with the usual commentary job.  The captain, Alison Nicholas, asked me to be part of her back room team, taking on the responsibility of liaising between the players and the media.  My duties included ensuring the individual players were at the right place at the right time for various press interviews – a little trickier than it may sound.  The most challenging part was shepherding/persuading a beaten team to the media centre for a final full-team press conference.  In the aftermath of a defeat it was understandably the last thing any of us wanted.  It may or may not surprise you as to who were the bolshie ones!

The last Solheim I attended was the Gleneagles one in 2019 where Suzann Pettersen cemented her name in golfing history by holing a seven-footer on the final green for a stunning victory.  She had been one of captain Catriona Matthew’s picks – quite controversially in some quarters, as she’d hardly played in the preceding eighteen months having just had her first baby.

It was so, so memorable but also unforgettable for me for another reason.  It was the last time I worked alongside Peter Alliss, a broadcaster of legendary reputation and status.  It was the final week of enjoying entertaining evening meals in his company, discussing a range of topics on this and that.  Every time I see Suzann’s final putt played out on television I think back to where I was at that moment – sitting right beside Peter in the commentary box.

The Solheim Cup has been good to me and it’s been a big part of my life.  My golf never made the grade but I’ve been privileged and lucky to experience this special week so many times in differing roles.  Oh, and the fun you can have when you don’t have your clubs!

Now for the armchair and the Do Not Disturb sign!