11.21 am
"Tame the Tiger!" The shriek, in a cultured middle-class English accent, got it all wrong. They'd come in their droves to watch Tiger Woods, the US Masters champion and Nike marketing icon, and instead, a man with the demeanour of a pussycat ended up mauling the Europeans.
Mark O'Meara, who has a Tipperary ancestry buried deep in his bloodline, is as much a golfing father figure as a buddy to the young master. When the final fourball match of the day finally commenced, he was first to step onto the tee-box, to muted applause, followed by the Tiger, to the customary roars and shouts. By the end, on the 16th green, the repetitive yells of "USA . . . USA" were aimed mostly in O'Meara's direction.
The metamorphosis was a slow one. Woods, the phenomenon, and O'Meara, the old soldier, were pitted against Colin Montgomerie and Bernhard Langer, considered Europe's top pairing. But poor old Monty had one of those days. Nothing went right, and most things went wrong. In 16 holes, he hit three fairways and four greens in regulation. Bad day.
Woods, his middle two fingers on his right hand strapped in white plasters, didn't reach for his driver at all in the fourball. A dodgy back, according to his coach, and a fear of the tree-lined Valderrama course put the premium on course management.
After missing a birdie putt on the first, an American voice urged: "Okay, go get 'em Tiger, that just means you have to birdie the other 17 holes." Easier said than done.
12.43 pm
Fourth hole, La Cascada. Tiger Woods, smiling like the boy next door, walks after his 20-foot putt, putter raised in his left hand a la Chi Chi Rodriguez, and watches the ball plonk into the cup. Birdie number one, the US one up. Not too difficult after all?
Pumped up kid. Tiger, using three wood, finds the right-hand side of the fifth fairway, 200 yards from the pin. "He'll probably use a putter from there," shrills a Yankee voice. Monty, struggling, pulls his drive into the left rough. Bit of luck, he gets a free drop from casual water. No luck, his practised drop falls into a poor lie. Montgomerie, Europe's number one for four years, fluffs his recovery, sending the ball 25 yards. "Which part of Tiger do you want?" yells another American. There are plenty of them here.
Really bad day for Monty. On the sixth hole, the European duo commit the cardinal sin of fourball golf. They both bogey the hole and lose to a par. Two down, one Scottish head down and a German trying to be the strong one. Good news spreads for the Americans and, like vultures, their quartet of free players - Justin Leonard, Scott Hoch, Jeff Maggert and Lee Janzen - appear to feed on the buzz.
On the 10th hole, they get their nourishment. The Tiger, who counted only three times on the front nine, raps in a 10 footer for birdie to put the Americans threeup and in freefall mode. "Do you know, he really is the world number one," swoons a dewy-eyed fan.
2.30 pm
So, Tiger really is number one, is he? The 11th hole could have been personally made for Woods, but it exposed his fallibility. The baby of the US team fired his drive down the right-hand side, only to smash into a fairway trap. Then came the comedy of errors, Woods playing like a high-handicap hacker.
His second shot clips the lip of the bunker and finishes 20 yards ahead of him. His attempted recovery flies off the clubface, barely raising above head level, and ploughs into rough on the far side, not more that 90 yards away.
When the Tiger finished the hole with a bogey six, his arm went around his pal who'd saved his blushes by sinking a tricky four footer for par. "Thanks partner," murmured Woods to O'Meara, still three up.
He was thanking O'Meara again at the 12th. "Be right, be the one," said O'Meara's caddie, Gerry Higginbotham from Alameda, California. The shot pitched six feet from the pin. Woods's tee-shot finished up in the woods. The hole was eventually halved in par threes.
Next hole, the 13th, and more trouble for Tiger. His pulled teeshot finishes behind a tree, and his approach out of the rough gets a flyer over the green and the TV gantry and into out-of-bounds. The angel-faced boy does have blue words in his vocabulary. For once, O'Meara has a hiccup, his approach catching the branch of a tree and he has his only bogey of the round. Two up.
3.40 pm
The 14th, La Piedra. For the first time in the day, Mark O'Meara, his wife Alicia watching every shot, has lost the honour off the tee. It proves to be a temporary lapse, fitting enough given the solid golf he has played throughout. Monty, who has hardly seen the greens for the trees, needs three shots to find the green. Time to pick up. O'Meara's wedge shot finishes two feet from the flag. Tap-in birdie. America three-up again.
Four men wearing blue T-shirts with gold stars sit by the 15th green in perfect unison, a word apiece on each top. "UnitedColours-Of-Europe" they proclaim. The two men marching by might not agree, Montgomerie looking like a beaten man, Langer with his chin up.
However, on the 16th green it all ends. Fittingly, O'Meara is the man to seal the win, rattling in a 20-foot birdie putt for a 3 and 2 win. Montgomerie, who had already picked up his ball after failing to negotiate his way through the trees, decides he won't bother with lunch before the foursomes match against the same two opponents. Instead, the Scot heads for the practice range and dispatches his wife Eimear into the clubhouse to fetch a couple of sandwiches.
He leaves behind him two happy Americans with the chants of their supporters ringing in their ears. "I played a couple of loose shots out there but, fortunately, got away with them thanks to Mark," says Tiger to NBC by greenside. "No problem," mumbles O'Meara, "that's what I'm here for."
"Can I have a quick word too?" asks the on-course reporter for BBC Radio Five Live. The Tiger doesn't even turn around to look. There is more work to be done.
