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Westwood cements reputation./Westwood confirms his maturity./Young master comes of age./Untroubled Westwood happy to let his clubs do the talking./Westwood swings into overdrive with a 61./Westwood heads for friendly society./Westwood breaks several barriers./Westwood rules the loch./Chubby's worth his weight in gold.

Newspaper cuttings

This is a very satisfying read for anyone fed up with Mr Woods, like me. It shows Tiger is not the only twenty-something capable of beating the rest of the world.....

Westwood's star rises as Woods struggles to cope

BY HUGH MCILVANNEY, DURING THE 1997 RYDER CUP

ALL THE predictions that a rookie would have a crucial impact on this Ryder cup were dramatically fulfilled yesterday but the name involved will have surprised most of the forcasters. Lee Westwood, a sturdy son of Nottinghamshire with a boyish smile and a golf game that is strong in every department, was the decisive influence in a thrilling fourball match that brought Tiger Woods his second defeat in less than 24 hours.

Even on a day when the 16 players engaged in fourball action produced an impressive aggregate of 45 birdies and two eagles, Westwood's contibution was outstanding, particularly for a 24 year old having his first exposure to the competition. His glittering memories of the day will be especially cherished because one of his vitims was the most celebrated phenomenon in modern sport. But he will draw more lasting warmth from recalling the rewards of his marvellous alliance he has formed with Nick Faldo.

Faldo found himself cast in to the unusual role of supporting player as he and Westwood employed a cumulative barrage of excellence to dismantle the resistance of Woods and his regular partner, Mark O'Meara. The older Englishman's beautiful ball striking provided the ideal platform for Westwood's heroic interventions. There were many of them. The rookie came in with nerveless birdie putts on the ninth and tenth greens greens to erase the US team's two hole lead and then sank another from a dozen feet on the difficult short 15th to thrust the pair ahead.

One hole later, Faldo at last escaped from the curse of narrow misses that seemed to have sttled on his putting and buried a 20 footer, leaving the pair dormie 2. That made the march in to the huge, mainly European gallery on the 17th clamorously ominousfor the Americans and what happened there must have reopened in Woods' mind the wounds inflicted on Fiday afternoon when he and O'Meara were annihilated 5 and 3 in the foursomes by Langer and Montgomerie.

Characteristically, Faldo set the stage for his partner sending a glorious fairway wood over the water guarding the 17th green and in to the heart of the putting area. Westwood, from closer to the hazard, responded with a stunning approach to within a few feet of the flag. With O'Meara's ball resting on the slope between the green and the water and sufficiently far away to demand a chip, Woods was obliged to be bold with his putt from the back edge.

Boldness had been strangely absent from his play throughout the humid afternoon and now that he finally summoned it the result was disasterous. His ball careered past the hole, on to the deadly incline and in to the lake. O'Meara missed with his chip and the match was over, 2&1. When some European supporters in the crowd laughed out loud at Wood' misfortune, the callousness made the rest of us shudder. It is not the 21 year old's fault that utterly unrealistic expectations have been attached to his name in the Ryder Cup. Sympathy would have been more appropriate than mockery. Yesterday's pain was more sporadic than Friday's but it deposited plenty of hurtful memories.

For nearly half of the Saturday fourball match, Woods and O'Meara were unable to convince themselves that they had the measure of Faldo and Westwood. The Americans went ahead as a consequence of O'Meara's birdie on the par five fourth hole and they went two ahead when Woods holed a chip from the edge of the green at the seventh. But their supremecy did not last long.

Westwood's killing putt at nine was from 25 feet, so an eight footer at 10 was a soft option for him. On the 11th tee Woods munched an apple. It was green and it did not soften his expression. Before he drove off, he took a gulp of air; it was a reminder of a remark by Fred Couples earlier in the week. "The first twice I played in the Ryder Cup I couldn't breath," said the man who is generally considered to be among the most relaxe in golf.

It was enduring that Woods should show signs of allowing the tension of the occasion to infiltrate his physche. But even his most compassionate team mates were bound to be looking for his trademark inspiration rather than the mere competence that was very best he could offer here.


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Last modified: 2/5/98