Everyone was nervous. The players, the caddies, the fans. There was an energy in the air that day, the kind that only a Ryder Cup can produce. Thousands of Team Europe supporters had surrounded the first green, many of them dressed in vibrant costumes and donned war paint on their faces. They wanted to erupt, but for the moment it was quiet.
The Midnight Troubadour
Tough and timeless, this polo is built for the long ride. Featuring a crisp, non-collapsing collar and a rugged, stretchy fabric, it's the perfect shirt for any cowboy's wardrobe.
Everyone’s eyes were locked in on Viktor Hovland.
Ludvig Åberg had flared his approach in Europe’s foursomes match against Max Homa and Brian Harman, and now Hovland was facing the kind of short-game shot that used to cripple him. He was still carrying some mental scar tissue from his first Ryder Cup, at Whistling Straits, when he didn’t chip well and let a partisan American crowd get to him. But this was nightmare fuel. The ball was sitting on the tightest possible lie, practically on the green. If he was going to chip it or pitch it, he’d need to land the ball at the crest of a ridge and use spin to get it close to a tucked right pin.
“We’re all so nervous,” said Homa, who was standing on the other side of the green. “I’m thinking ‘We’re really gonna see this Joe Mayo stuff because he’s chipping from the first cut, and the fringe might as well be the green. It was so awkward. That’s not a golf shot you’d like to hit anywhere, let alone the first hole of the Ryder Cup.”
The safe play would be to putt it, and that’s what Hovland’s caddie, Shay Knight, suggested he do. Hovland shook him off.
“No, I’ve trained for this,” Hovland said. “I can do this.”
The chip came out low and with spin, landing right where Hovland was looking. It trundled up the ridge and then began trickling to the left. With six feet to go, Hovland started walking after it, assuming he needed to study the break for Aberg’s putt coming back. But the ball kept drifting toward the hole. It kissed the pin and dropped into the cup, and the explosion of sound that accompanied Hovland’s fist pump set the tone for the entire Ryder Cup.
“F– yeah!” Hovland shouted over the roar, high-fiving Knight as he strutted after his ball.
Team Europe veterans, who felt protective of Hovland because of the way he was tormented over his short game at Whistling Straits, were beaming.
“He told us later he thought the only way he was going to hole it was to chip it,” said Tommy Fleetwood. “That shows you something. First hole of the Ryder Cup and he’s thinking ‘What’s the best way to hole this?’”
Hovland went 3-1-1 that week and was an essential cog in Europe’s decisive victory. He and Aberg made history on Saturday by beating Scottie Scheffler and Brooks Koepka by the biggest margin (9 & 7) ever in an 18-hole match, and on Sunday, he throttled Colin Morikawa in singles 4&3 to help quash any hint of an American comeback.
It felt like golf’s newest superstar had just grabbed the reins of the sport.
It’s a shame that even the best golf swing is often a fragile, imperfect thing.

Six months have passed since Italy. Hovland is on the far end of the driving range at Augusta National, with two bags of balls near his feet. He looks miserable, even from a distance. Bryson DeChambeau was rolling putts nearby, but after a few minutes, he finished up and left the practice area. Hovland continues to pound balls. Knight, who is at Hovland’s side for every range session, drifts away at one point in search of more tees. Hovland had none left in his bag. Knight returns with a large handful, depositing them near Hovland’s feet.
Every other player in the field is gone.
A small group of fans is watching him fro
Source: https://nolayingup.com/blog/viktor-hovland-is-searching-for-his-old-self
