TV View: It's easy to snipe, of course, but truly, having acquired the rights to show the Ryder Cup you'd think Sky Sports would make an effort.

Thursday and Friday: including repeats they had a mere 20-odd hours of Ryder Cup-related coverage, including a three-hour preview programme (which was barely long enough to comprehensively analyse Donald Trump's opening ceremony hair-do), and 11.5 hours of coverage of the first day's play. Golf fans must wonder why they bother subscribing to the channel.

Even Ewen Murray, who we suspect has a picture of the Ryder Cup tattooed on his right buttock, was being languidly subdued yesterday morning.

All he could muster was: "This ranks, I think, alongside soccer's World Cup and the Olympics for global appeal and affection, but in terms of concentrated excitement surpasses both." Come on Ewen man, show some enthusiasm.

Sky's presentational style, too, was a bit tepid, calling to mind Fox News's dispassionate coverage of the war in Iraq - fluttering flags, flaring nostrils, and "more live action after the break, stay tuned!".

Their embedded reporters, too, were a touch casual about it all, Dominic Hollier, for example, hardly rallying the European troops by reminding Monty, at 7 a.m. yesterday, that if he and Padraig Harrington failed to get off to a good start against Phil Mickelson and Tiger Woods they'd be letting an entire continent down. Badly.

We jest, of course. Sky Sports needed to be strapped to their seats yesterday. By close of business your average doubting Thomas would almost have believed that the Ryder Cup is an electrifying sporting event.

"Get ready for a rollercoaster ride of emotion and passion that will keep you on the edge of your seat," presenter, David Livingstone said. That, then, was the tone.

Before a ball was struck Sky introduced us to the players, asking members of both teams some searching questions.

For example . . . What colour are your favourite pyjamas?

Paul McGinley: "Green."

Monty: "I don't wear pyjamas . . . that's for every woman who's listening."

Viewer: "Oh, Christ."

How do you like your eggs? Jimenez: "Boiled. Three minutes. Soft. So you can putta down and dippa the bread."

Last time you went to a fancy dress party who or what did you go as?

Darren Clarke: "Andy Pandy."

Stewart Cink: "A can of Old Spice deodorant."

Monty: "I'd never go to a fancy dress party, I think they're awful occasions."

What's your favourite word?

Tiger Woods: "I can't say . . . unless this is cable TV."

Kenny Perry: "Ehhhhh, I don't know. In Kentucky we don't have many words."

Cink: "God."

That, then, gave us a fair old idea of the personalities lining up for the contest, although our favourite response - one that simply confirmed that the French are the master race - was to the question: "what do you think is mankind's best invention?"

Every one of them nominated the car or the wheel, except Thomas Levet who opted for "women". Or, "whimoooon" as he purred. Ah, Vive le Levet.

Back to the build-up. "If Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson get beat can you imagine how pissed off they're gonna be," said Butch Harmon, previewing the morning's fourballs.

Livingstone blushed. "Well, part of the passion of the Ryder Cup getting to Butch there, but we'll try and keep that to a minimum," he said, envisioning a switchboard of the lit-up kind.

Show time. The starter introduced Paw Draygue Harreen Ton to the crowd, while Padraig Harrington waited his turn. Then he realised he was, if fact, Paw Draygue, leaving him almost as befuddled as he was during the English version of Amhran na bhFiann in the opening ceremony (the highlight of which was the four American ladies, bedecked in stars and stripes, carrying cards that read "Go", "U", "S" and "A". Except they got their positions muddled and, so implored the 'SUA' to 'Go').

Little did Paw Draygue, or indeed ourselves, know that when Peadar Kearney penned the tune he had the Ryder Cup in mind, i.e.: "Impatient for the coming fight, and as we wait the morning's light . . . in valley green, on towering crag, our fathers fought before us, and conquered 'neath the same old flag that's proudly floating o'er us."

Paw Draygue, Monty and Tiger shaped up, while Mickelson's face asked: "why am I here?" Ewen reminded us that four of the world's greatest golfers were about to tee off.

Monty: bunker on the right.

Harrington: bunker on the left.

Mickelson: "Fore!"

Tiger: "Fore! FoRE! FOOOOOORE!"

Ooops. In fairness Ewen giggled. He had, perhaps, overheated the egg and when he putta down and dippa the bread he'd met with some resistance, of the hard-boiled kind. A bit like, come afternoon, the American fourball pairings, conquered "neath the same old EU flag that's proudly floating o'er us". Uerope: Go.