Rome’s Unexpected Ryder Cup Headliner
Occasionally in sport, the headlines aren’t made by the headliners. They’re crafted in surprise by those at the periphery, the off-field characters previously afforded little interest. Like at the Marco Simone golf course in September…
This is the introduction to October’s edition of the Off-Field newsletter, curating monthly tales from the fringes of sport and society. Read it here.
It’s approaching 7pm under a setting sun at the Marco Simone golf course, and there are only a handful of shots to be played until the culmination of day two at the Ryder Cup. Despite it being an hour’s trek back into central Rome, most of the 45,000 in attendance are staying put — and it’s not because Vernon Kay is DJ’ing afterwards.
They’re thronging around the 18th green in crowds 10-deep because they sense a moment. After a day and a half of European dominance, the Americans are finally fighting back.
Patrick Cantlay has endured the bird from the crowd all day, thousands jauntily waving their caps at him in response to his refusal to wear his own, a gesture some interpreted as an act of defiance over not being paid to represent his country.
Despite Peroni-fuelled chants of “hats off, for your bank account” ringing in his ears, a stern-faced Cantlay drains his clutch putt to pile the pressure back onto his opponents, Rory McIlroy and Matt Fitzpatrick. And then it happens.
Occasionally in sport, the headlines aren’t made by the headliners. They’re crafted in surprise by those at the periphery, the off-field characters previously afforded little interest. They come unexpectedly, like an Eastenders extra suddenly ordering a pint of Guinness in The Queen Vic. Because of this, they’re also usually controversial.
Steve Bartman was just a fan attending Wrigley Field when he tried to catch a foul ball in 2003, but would return home needing a security escort. In 2013, Charlie Morgan was a mere 17-year-old Swansea ball boy engaged in some shifty timewasting, but in stomaching a kick from a frustrated Eden Hazard, his actions resulted in a red card for the Belgian and game over for Chelsea.
On Saturday, caddy Joe LaCava was simply an experienced and consummate pro best known for an unassuming role as Tiger Woods’ caddy for over a decade. But as a resolute Cantlay clenched his fist in celebration, his caddy LaCava decided to remove his cap and waft it above his head as a clear response to the crowd’s taunts.
As gestures go, it’s pretty tame. But in a sport with higher standards of etiquette than a reception with the King, it caused a stir. Especially when his antics began to eek into the time and space McIlroy needed to take his own shot. The Northern Irishman showed his annoyance, and the initial polite chuckle from the crowd morphed into the tournament’s first flicker of animosity.
Europe missed their putts, and the Americans had secured the point that kept their faint hopes alive. More significantly, LaCava’s goading had lit a fire up a competition that was daring to become a procession. The Ryder Cup had its narrative. It was the moment the crowd must have subconsciously known was coming, and why those buses back to Rome (or a walk to the Vernon Kay gig) had to wait.
This is why nothing beats live sport. Because, no matter how marginal a figure you cut, whether staff, steward, or fan, you’re entwined in the action. You’re part of the theatre. There’s a nervy thrill and frisson of excitement that can’t be replicated in any bustling pub or comfy sofa. There’s always a chance that those in the background are thrust into the spotlight.
And with that in mind, onto this month’s selection, featuring more caddy shenanigans, the doctor who treated the All Blacks for 15 years, the remarkable tale of fake cricket leagues, the dark underbelly of the Northern Irish motorcycling scene, and the most notorious second fiddlers in sport. Enjoy the read.
This is an excerpt from the Off-Field newsletter. Subscribe, for free, here
