The early returns are in from across the pond on Nick Faldo's Ryder Cup captaincy, and if this article is any indication, 'ol Nick might as well stay over here and lick his wounds for a while before heading back home.
Some choice quotes:
"The Ryder Cup is in American hands for the first time this century, placed there, the lynch mob will say, by a European captain who could never quite get over himself."
Ouch!
"He is about to pay the price of a lifetime of self serving, of devotion to the cult of the individual."
Oof!
"Embarrassment ought to bring him down. Virulent self-regard blinds him to it as he wanders permanently in a Faldo wonderland. "
Paper cut!
"Faldo’s gamble on the big finish, loading the European tail with alpha muscle, left Ian Poulter, Lee Westwood and Padraig Hamilton at 10, 11 and 12 thrashing at thin air, their legs amputated by a hopelessly incontinent ego. "
Take that, you spineless traitor!
Of course, someone might want to tell this guy that it's Harrington, not Hamilton.
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