ONE OF THE MORE unfortunate things about the Ryder Cup is not the USA’s seeming inability to produce a winning side these days but the degeneration of the gallery into something approaching the hysteria of a football crowd.
Applause at many major events these days can no longer be spontaneous it seems, but co-ordinated either by some manic announcer bawling the name of the goal, run or points scorer or else accompanied by primitive music that endeavours to bring out the latent caveman in us all. Cheering a try for England at Twickenham is now supported by deafening music from the rightly, little known combination of Elias and his Zig Zag jive flutes. And does it enhance our enjoyment? Very little would be the most popular response from those with an IQ into double figures. Continue reading