The seed merchant whose baby grew into a monster

Perhaps no event in the history of sport has undergone such a comprehensive transformation as the Ryder Cup. In less than 20 years, the golfers of Europe and America have converted the series of matches into one of the most eagerly anticipated spectacles in sport.

Perhaps no event in the history of sport has undergone such a comprehensive transformation as the Ryder Cup. In less than 20 years, the golfers of Europe and America have converted the series of matches into one of the most eagerly anticipated spectacles in sport.

On the eve of the 1981 contest at Walton Heath, the Washington Post ran barely a hundred words on the forthcoming event. In comparison, it devoted 16 long-winded paragraphs to the LaJet Classic and the World Series invitational tournament. Nowadays, this imbalance seems inconceivable; coverage of the event begins almost before the previous contest has ended. Venues are often decided decades in advance, books are written on the back of the experiences of captains and caddies alike. All in all, the present Ryder Cup is a monster.

The standard of competition is one of the key factors that has made it so, and was the motivation for the event's initiation in 1927. Following two matches between the professionals of Great Britain and Ireland and those of the United States, the St Albans seed merchant Samuel Ryder suggested to the PGA that here was an event worthy of a regular slot in golf's official calendar.

Yet it was not Ryder who had the original plan to bring together players from each side of the Atlantic. That honour belongs to James Hartnett, the circulation manager of Golf Illustrated magazine in America. His plan was for two teams to contest a match that would raise the profile of his magazine and so increase its circulation. The first documented record of what became known as the Ryder Cup was in 1920 when the PGA of America agreed partly to finance golf's first transatlantic tournament.

Gleneagles hosted the inaugural meeting in 1921 and saw the home players take advantage of what were, to most of the American players, alien conditions. A 9-3 victory set the standard for British expectations that were enhanced when the next unofficial event took place at Wentworth five years' later.

It is not clear why it took so long to stage the second event, because the first had been universally considered a success. None the less, when the tournament returned to the calendar Great Britain and Ireland trounced the American team in a manner never to be repeated. A points haul of 13¹/_² to America's paltry 1¹/_² left the home team feeling confident that they remained masters of the sport.

One of the spectators at the 1926 match was Samuel Ryder. Then aged 68, Ryder was thrilled with the home victory, in particular the play of his own golf coach, Abe Mitchell, whose defeats of the 1925 Open champion Jim Barnes (9 and 8) and the king of American golf Walter Hagen (8 and 7) helped to seal the crushing victory. Legend has it that Ryder was confused as to why the players did not compete in the event more often. It was at that point that George Duncan, Mitchell's playing partner in the win over Barnes and Hagen, suggested they would be more prepared to do so if there was an actual trophy to play for.

With that in mind, Ryder approached the PGA with the aim of securing the event and getting a trophy made up. By 1927 a solid gold trophy had been crafted by Mappin & Webb, two teams had been selected, and everything was in place for the first match to take place at Worcester Country Club in Massachusetts.

With a line-up that reflected the quality of future Cup teams, the Americans had the greater depth for that first match. With the multiple major champions Gene Sarazen and Hagen in the squad plus future winners of major events, the visitors were always destined to struggle.

The overall match score of the US's 9¹/_² to Britain and Ireland's 2¹/_² did much to make up for America's resounding defeats in the previous two confrontations. The seed had been sown and the next match was scheduled for 1929 at Moortown in Leeds.

On the tough Yorkshire course, the British team saw the arrival of a young player who would in time become their answer to Hagen. Henry Cotton was only 22 but already recognised as a player of great note. The match was won 7-5 and despite the disappointment of defeat, Hagen said: "To lose in a game is not a national calamity. Besides, one country cannot always expect to win. If that were to happen, interest in golf would evaporate."

While Hagen's words were undoubtedly genuinely felt at the time, Great Britain and Ireland were to win the Ryder Cup just once – in 1933 at Southport – between then and 1957. As a result interest had waned and was virtually non-existent until the Americans faced some consistent opposition to their dominance.

The win in 1957 was a landmark for the British. After eight frustrating and demoralising defeats, the determination of a strong home side ensured that the ebullient Dai Rees led them to a memorable victory. Overjoyed by the victory, the little Welshman insisted: "It's wonderful. This is the greatest shot in the arm British golf ever had."

Unfortunately for Rees, British golf and the Ryder Cup, the next 28 years saw just one halved match and, more importantly, interest in the Ryder Cup slip to an all-time low. Indeed, 1969 proved to be the only bright spot in nearly three decades of gloom.

In a match that saw one of the strongest American teams descend on the links of Royal Birkdale, it was a moment of supreme sportsmanship that secured Great Britain and Ireland a half. With the match tied on 15¹/_² points Tony Jacklin and Jack Nicklaus stood on the 18th green all square. Nicklaus holed from six feet for par, meaning that Jacklin faced a four-footer for a half to tie the entire contest at 16 points apiece. Nicklaus conceded the putt with words: "I don't think you would have missed that putt, Tony, but in the circumstances I would never give you the opportunity." Although 1969 proved to be the first time since 1957 that the Americans had not won the Cup outright, it did not mark a change in Great Britain and Ireland's overall fortunes. Throughout the 1970s it was victory after crushing victory for the might of American golf. Never really threatened, they entered every Ryder Cup with the feeling of invincibility which Hagen had warned against in 1929. They could do nothing wrong and on occasion achieved wins without even fielding their strongest possible team. Had it not been for Nicklaus writing a letter to Lord Derby, then president of the British PGA, suggesting that selection for the Great Britain and Ireland team should be extended to include the growing band of top-class European professionals, the Ryder Cup might have ceased to exist.

However, the change did not yield immediate results – the 1981 match at Walton Heath saw another overwhelming American victory despite the Europeans' inclusion. With perhaps the most powerful team yet assembled, the United States achieved their biggest margin of victory – 18^₁/^₂ to 9^₁/^₂ – on British soil. The Americans had three current major champions in Watson, Rogers and Nelson. They also fielded the likes of Nicklaus, Trevino, Irwin, Floyd, Kite, Crenshaw, Pate and Miller.

The 1983 match at the PGA National course in Florida provided the watershed that had been hoped for in 1979. Although Europe did not win, there was a marked difference in attitude. This was largely inspired by two people – the team captain, Tony Jacklin, and Seve Ballesteros who, after a stand-off with the European Tour in 1981, had become Jacklin's on-course lieutenant. Ballesteros provided his team-mates with mounting inspiration particularly after playing what Nicklaus described as "the finest shot I have ever seen" – a three-wood from a fairway bunker at the last to set up a birdie which earned him a singles half against Fuzzy Zoeller. Jacklin then assured everyone that 1983 was no one-off: "One thing is for certain, these matches are going to be as close as this from now on. There will be no more American walkovers."

In 1985, it is the image of Sam Torrance standing on The Belfry's 18th green, arms aloft with tears running down his cheeks, that will forever remain etched on the minds of anybody who had the privilege to watch that day's play. Once again Ballesteros proved to be the inspiration, working tirelessly to encourage the team and bolster their confidence.

Like a number of previous Ryder Cup matches, there was little in it by the time it came to the singles. Traditionally the domain of the Americans, Europe managed some great golf to win with five of the 12 matches still on the course. Manuel Pinero, Paul Way, Sandy Lyle and Bernhard Langer had all won their matches when Torrance holed the putt which symbolically became the moment that the Ryder Cup reinvented itself.

Jacklin prophesied after the 1985 match that it was a new dawn for golf in Europe. Unlike many of his predecessors who had often made claims of a similar nature, it was now somehow more believable.

Staging the 1987 Ryder Cup at Muirfield Village, the course that Jack Nicklaus built, was supposed to see a return to the Ryder Cup's usual order. No visiting team had won in America, and it was widely felt that there could be no repeat of Europe's 1985 victory.

However, Jacklin was armed with a more experienced side. Four points to the good after day one, five points up after day two, Jacklin's men required just four points out of a possible 12 to win for a second successive time. However, with only one point out of the first seven matches, things were tense by the time it came to Eamonn Darcy's victory over Ben Crenshaw. With a halved match from Langer, it fell to Ballesteros to secure the point that ensured Europe would win the Cup for the first time on American soil. With a battling performance against the Curtis Strange, Ballesteros holed a two-footer for a victory which cemented his captain's view that he was "the best golfer in the world".

With media interest now at an all-time high, the Ryder Cup was assured an exalted place in the sports calendar for the foreseeable future. The matches in 1989 justified that attention. Back at The Belfry, Europe were 9-7 up coming to the singles. Five wins in the first eight matches put Europe in the driving seat coming down the stretch and a third win in succession the seemed certain, with Nick Faldo, Ian Woosnam and Sam Torrance still on the course. Yet failure to glean even a half from any of the last four matches meant that Europe retained the trophy by virtue of a tied match.

Two years later saw The War on the Shore at Kiawah Island in South Carolina. In three days of tremendous golf on one of the world's toughest courses, an abundance of gamesmanship caused considerable ill-feeling between the teams. The Americans donned camouflage caps and whooped the crowd into a frenzy over the three days. By the time the match reached the singles, it was tied. However, in spite of the partisan crowd, the outcome came down to one putt on the last green in the last match. In an image that has become as famous throughout the golf world as that of Torrance in 1985. Langer stands with his back arched over his heels and eyes looking heavenward after missing a six-foot putt that would have earned him a singles win over Hale Irwin and halved the contest – a result which would have enabled Europe to retain the trophy they had held for six years.

In 1993 at The Belfry, Europe looked poised to capitalise on some of the form their best players had shown over the week. Europe were a point to the good going into the singles, but in the end it came down to a missed putt by Italy's Costantino Rocca against Davis Love III and a collapse by Barry Lane against Chip Beck. It was as fine a Ryder Cup as has ever been played.

And at Oak Hill in 1995, there was more of the same. Holes-in-one, holed pitch shots and monster putts led to some scintillating matchplay. Bernard Gallacher captained Europe again, and he desperately needed a victory to gain a measure of the respect reserved for his predecessor, Tony Jacklin. Against the gritty Lanny Wadkins, and a talented, if ageing, American team, the match was again destined to be close. At 9-7 down after the second day of foursomes and fourballs, Europe's chances did not look good going into the final day. With two wins and a half in the first four matches, Europe had closed the gap to a point and it was largely the British players who shone through to lift the Cup.

David Gilford made up for a dismal 1991 debut with a win over Brad Faxon, Colin Montgomerie beat the reigning Masters champion Ben Crenshaw 3 and 1, and then came Nick Faldo against his old adversary Curtis Strange, one of Wadkins' wild cards.

One down with two holes to play, Faldo staged a mighty recovery to come to the last hole with honours even. The Englishman found himself with 93 yards to the flag, knowing that he had to get down in two shots to ensure a half. A pitch to four feet and one putt saw him win the hole and the match. Faldo described it as "the greatest scrambling par of my life". It brought Europe within a point of triumph and Philip Walton's subsequent victory over Jay Haas ensured that Europe had won the Cup back from an American team who had looked set for a third successive victory.

In 1997 the Cup came to mainland Europe for the first time and, mainly in recognition of Ballesteros's enormous contribution to the event, it went to Valderrama in the new captain's native Spain. With the young sensation Tiger Woods in a formidable American side, it was felt that Europe would do well to keep up. Europe, or more accurately Ballesteros, were not about to let that happen and with some incredible play in the pairs formats over the first two days, Europe took a five-point lead into the singles. Some inspirational American play, particularly from Fred Couples and Mark O'Meara, could not stop Ballesteros's troops marching to a victory that was secured when Langer, the victim of 1991, holed the winning putt.

The 1999 match at Brookline is keenly remembered for the quality of play and also the unsavoury behaviour of both the American team and many spectators. Colin Montgomerie, by now Europe's best player, was hounded by the crowd throughout the contest.

Europe seemed to have an unassailable lead going into the last day but victories in the opening six singles had Europe on the run and when Justin Leonard triggered scenes of mass adulation by holing his monster putt against Jose Maria Olazabal on the penultimate green, it was all over.

Two years later the teams were to head for The Belfry but the atrocities of September 11 forced the postponement. So this year the world of golf is holding its breath, praying for another enthralling contest. Samuel Ryder would be proud that his baby has grown into one of the world's greatest sporting events.