And so, the greatest sporting contest delivers once again. The Ryder Cup tells stories like no other sporting sophist. The individual collective versus the collection of individuals. Villains versus heroes, triumph versus despair, generous sportsmanship versus selfish morons. What’s not to like?

And how wonderful to see Trump’s America, boorish, brash, loud-mouthed and classless, do themselves in. With each catcall, each “fuck you fatboy!” Europe grew. Unable to see the connection between their fuel and the opposition’s fire, the Stateside crowd bayed onward. It ground men down, US and European. Scheffler and McIlroy both hung heavy on Sunday. Lugging their world-class golfing physiques around, hurting from what they had had to endure. Scottie is one of golf’s greatest men, and he hated to hear what and when ‘fans’ were screaming at his favourite opponent. The tenor of the weekend emanating from New York’s ugliest won it for Luke Donald’s men. But also lost it for the Americans.

A thought for Keegan Bradley. He lost out two years ago by not being picked. Lost out to the bizarre reaction to his magnanimous Netflix handling of his ‘missing out’, by being made captain, when he could have qualified as a player. Lost out to a magnificent European team at Bethpage, who were made more majestic by moronic mouths. There aren’t many people who deserve to lose less than Keegan; he’s taken a kicking from Yankee sneakers.

But this contest had two major plotlines. An incredible team performance from Europe and incredible individual performances from the US. But there were cameos of note. Not least, an envelope of English heartbreak. Hovland’s injury withdrawal torpedoed Harris’ Sunday submarine. A crucial 1/2 point for the visitors before a club was swung. You can sense Trump reached for his Truth Social. He hates things delivered by post.

Post mortems won’t be pretty Stateside. Some unusual decisions in pairings, and then the choice to set the course up to favour the inaccurate. Rough was shorn to increase the chance of birdies. I think if you have most of the world’s top 20 in your side, I’d make the track as tough as I could, wouldn’t you?

The lowly ranked hugged each other like a band of brothers. It was a war zone out there. Shrapnel was flying in from the ropes. An incentive, if it was needed, to keep your golf on track. Tucked under each other’s arm, Europe found the bottom of the cup time and again. By Saturday afternoon, they were walking the ball in from yards out. Together they were impenetrable. But on Sunday, they reached for each other’s hands, only to find fresh air. That and the sting of American single-mindedness.

Shane Lowry termed it “The hardest couple of hours of his life”. The tears flowed as the Irishman sunk an exultant 8-footer to achieve the magical 14 points. A rare glimmer of European individualism on the day. A day which saw America at its best. The land of the free is always going to be strong one on one. Europe weren’t complacent. Just not as good. Cameron Young and Justin Thomas were supreme. Ben Griffin, excellent. Shaufflele and Spaun were at their major winning best. Bryson DeChambeau should have more views on his back nine than all of his social media posts; he was titanic. Today the US almost did the impossible. But sometimes orange ping pong balls won’t bounce into plastic cups.

Ironically, the greatest team sat in an end of day press conference with the trophy in their hands, and the vast majority of questions came Rory’s way. Erica (his wife) got a round of applause from the players for coping so well with the torrent of abuse with which she had personally had to deal. Justin Rose interjected and revealed he hadn’t heard that she’d had beer thrown at her the day before: “How incredible that she didn’t share that with everyone? That’s the first time I’ve heard of that!” Everyone, it seemed, played their part.

Bethpage Black has a sign which warns everyone of its difficulty. It invites only highly skilled golfers. 24 certainly answered the call this weekend. But a dozen turned up together on Friday and Saturday, and thankfully, the Ryder Cup stands apart in this individual sport. And long may that continue to be the case.