Jim McCabe

LOUISVILLE, Ky. - Raymond Floyd, now 66 and hardly in possession of a stare that could send you reaching for a winter parka on a July day in North Carolina, attends the Masters each and every April, but only to take part in the practice rounds. Once the competition begins, the 1976 Masters winner is long gone from Augusta National Golf Club.

I mean, it’s still a great tournament and as special as they come, but, well ... Floyd’s sentiments aren’t much different than those of Dave Stockton, also 66. He twice won the PGA Championship and will forever cherish what those championships mean to his legacy, but when that major rolls around each August, you won’t find him anywhere near the event.

Been there, done that. The stage belongs to the others.

Those are the attitudes that explain the separation Floyd, Stockton and players of their generation place between themselves in the golf world they once felt they belonged to. So if you were to look up on a casual walk around Valhalla Golf Club on Monday and lock in on Floyd riding in a golf cart, then walking around the 10th tee box with J.B. Holmes and Boo Weekley, it would be easy to wonder why.

The only thing is: You know why.

It’s the Ryder Cup.

It’s different.

OK, so it’s a competition the Americans overwhelmingly dominated for years (a 22-3 record up to 1983). And, OK, it’s turned into quite the opposite story as Europe has won three straight, five of six, and eight of the last 11. The seemingly excessive stretch of mismatches don’t mean a thing when an element so often missing from professional golf is introduced come Ryder Cup time.

Passion.

It’s the kind of passion that led Davis Love to comment once that only in the Ryder Cup did pressure make his knees shake. All those trips to try and win a Masters? That chance to win the 1996 U.S. Open? Even his final shots at his victorious 1997 PGA Championship? No, none of those moments made him nervous, but Love confirms there were moments over his six Ryder Cups and 26 matches when he got sick to his stomach he was so nervous.

Yet Love would have loved nothing better than a seventh chance to represent his country, only he fell short.

2008 Ryder Cup At Valhalla Golf Club in Louisville, Ky. Final leaderboard  |    Slide show Final day: U.S. takes back the Ryder Cup Opinion: No substitute for inexperience   Video: Americans' winning moment Opinion: Azinger gave heart, soul  |    Video New breed carries Americans  |    Video: Boo! Kim concedes nothing to Garcia  |    Video Notebook: Perry finds his defining moment Video: Highlights and memorable moments VOTE: Who played biggest role in win?

Floyd understands, which is why after eight Ryder Cups as a player and another as captain, he’s back for a 10th go-round, even if it’s as an assistant. Stockton, twice a team member and once a captain, feels similarly. You see, to them it’s more personal than a player’s chance to win a green jacket or a fancy trophy; those are nice individual honors that look great on the mantle. But the Ryder Cup? That’s for your teammates, for your country, for the deepest part of your competitive soul that doesn’t often get a chance to be quenched.

“I think once the flags go up, you feel [the passion] and the fans feel it,” said Paul Azinger, a four-time team member who’ll captain this year’s U.S. squad. “You get to feel the energy.”

Video   Keys to Ryder Cup success Johnny Miller and Dan Hicks look at what Team USA needs to do against Team Europe in the Ryder Cup. NBC Sports

Certainly, what speaks to the greatness of the Ryder Cup is this — it sucks in the casual fans like a vacuum. The last day of the Masters and perhaps a U.S. Open playoff like this year’s between Tiger Woods and Rocco Mediate — those are the only other times when even the non-golf fans will tune in in large numbers to see what’s going on. But they’re doing so to absorb a head-to-head competition that they can relate to. With the Ryder Cup, people tune in — nearly 5 million on average for each round dating back to 1999 — even if they don’t have a clue as to what a “foursomes” is, never mind “dormie.”

But what they do know is, there’s a sense of nationalistic pride on the line.

That is why Mark Calcavecchia escaped to the solitude of the beach in the moments after his match ended poorly against Colin Montgomerie at the 1991 Ryder Cup. Having been 4-up through 14, Calcavecchia lost each of the last four holes to come away with just a half-point and thinking he had cost his team a chance at victory, he couldn’t contain his emotions.

The only thing is, you never saw similar emotions from Calcavecchia in any of his 13 runner-up finishes on the PGA Tour, not even in the three playoff defeats.

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