By Irishexaminer.com,Joe Callaghan, Bethpage, New York
Copyright irishexaminer
Perhaps even a passing hour.
Any young fan hoping to get a glimpse of that very same chairman, none other than Bryson DeChambeau, would have had a hard time getting there if they’d opted for the healthy approach at Bethpage Black this week.
One of the most appealing aspects of this hallowed blue collar course is its accessibility. The stroll from Farmingdale train station to the front gates is just a smidge under 2km. Yet the breezy 20-min path we took Monday was suddenly re-routed Tuesday.
When we asked why the change, a stone-faced New York State Trooper told us from under his stetson that “that was yesterday. Today is today.”
Fast forward 24 hours to Wednesday and the Examiner and another member of the Irish press pack were following the Tuesday route as the sun rose across these manicured suburbs.
In the glowing red and blue beacons of a patrol car a new officer, this one with the Nassau County Police Department, told us a 50m section of the road was now closed to foot traffic.
We were instead sent 1km literally around the houses to get to the other side of the squad car. The land of the free? Only if you’re driving.
There are many parts of this country where even attempting to walk somewhere results in open-mouthed gawks from those zooming by in a hulking pile of steel.
“What is that guy doing?” Trying to be a pedestrian, mam. Didn’t mean to offend.
With each morning roadblock the message was becoming clearer: hey, Europeans, just take the shuttle buses like the locals will ye?
The Irish media contingent have agreed that on the actual opening day of this Ryder Cup we will have no option.
“Imagine how bad things will be Friday,” the colleague said Wednesday morning. An hour later, we no longer had to imagine.
A little red notification pinged in the Media Hub with the subject line “Enhanced Ryder Cup Spectator Security Procedures for Presidential Visit”.
“Ticketed attendees are strongly urged to arrive as early as possible and should budget extra time as they plan their day,” the PGA of America warned. “In addition to security screening at the entrance, spectators will be subjected to TSA-style screening points around the clubhouse, adjacent grandstand and surrounding areas. If spectators leave these secure areas, they will need to be screened again prior to reentering that area. Gates will open for ticket holders at 5 a.m. Guests should make every effort to restrict personal items to a minimum.”
Thus followed a comprehensive list of prohibited items, including laptops. (Guess we’ll have to figure out a workaround or file our Friday stories by smoke signal.)
Isn’t this, ultimately, what Donald Trump always does? Puts everyone else out for his own comfort and gratification.
At the US Open earlier this month, the Men’s Final was delayed by over 30 minutes and fans who’d paid extortionate prices to be there were left outside as security lines snaked back from Arthur Ashe Stadium.
In his second term Trump’s use of sport to advance his agenda, to boost his popularity (and ego), has ramped up significantly. Gianni Infantino’s craven cameos at the Oval Office are but one piece of it.
Visits to the baseball clubhouses, dragging his culture wars to college football stadiums and Nascar tracks, the sporting appointments have piled up.
Golf, obviously, has been a particular focus. Having tried to intervene and sway Keegan Bradley to pick himself as a playing captain, Trump was adamant he was going to be here, irrespective of the logistics.
When asked about that — the challenge of acceding to the president’s demand — Ryder Cup director Bryan Karns told BBC Sport “it’s the hardest thing we’ll have to do, probably.”
The real hardships will in fact be felt by the fans who have spent upwards of $750 for a ticket.
It is, of course, absurd to sit here and seek sympathy for golf fans (or sports writers) who find themselves inconvenienced by early mornings and closed walkways at a time when grave injustices are being inflicted across this land.
To come here as an outsider and survey it all is not in any way a reassuring experience. There are red lights blinking across the board. Restricted movement?
How about a lawsuit filed recently in federal courts which centres on a group of children, three of whom were American citizens, aged two to 11 who were deported to Honduras by ICE.
The suit informs us that one of them, a four-year-old, has stage-four kidney cancer. These are the kind of policy “wins” that Trump and his sycophants toast.
Meanwhile his promise to fix golf’s civil war has been about as successful as diplomacy efforts in Ukraine and beyond.
Even if Trump weren’t turning up, this divisive, deeply unsettling American moment is an inescapable part of the backdrop to this weekend’s matches.
The kind of nativist patriotism the President foments will almost certainly pour out of the galleries towards visiting players. MAGA hats have been visible among the red, white and blue brigade at Bethpage.
Bradley and his home players have lined up to speak glowingly of their president.
His visit has them visibly giddy. Expecting golfers to be anything but Republican would be a fool’s errand. Yet even still, some of the glazing adoration, particularly from Scottie Scheffler on Tuesday, has felt over the top.
“He treats everybody the same and treats people with the utmost respect,” the World No.1 said with a straight face. “He treats everybody like they’re the greatest person in the world.”
With his council role, DeChambeau is officially part of team Trump. When the White House bizarrely tried to claim that the president had saved the Ryder Cup with an executive order to stop strike action on the Long Island Railroad, an effusive quote from DeChambeau was read out by press secretary Karoline Leavitt: “President Trump stepped up and took the action needed to protect this world-class competition.”
Sure. The trains will run then. And the locals will don their stars and stripes and make their way out here. But they’d better pack light, be on the move early and prepare for slow progress.
The comforts of the man taking them all backwards must come first.