Jesus Did Not Take the Wheel with Corey Pavin's Ryder Cup Picks

I went to Catholic school from kindergarten through the end of high school. My exposure to religion during my formative years was nothing short of total immersion. When most people hear that, I think they walk away with the notion that I was indoctrinated into the Catholic faith and that this is the major aim of such schools. 

I sense the same kind of cringing when athletes make reference to God, giving glory to Him, or any such monologue before or after competition. Square peg, round wafer. It just doesn't seem to fit. Even for me, it just does not seem to belong.

That said, faith is a part of the function that defines me. I believe in God. There is a much more complicated set of canons that guide my thinking after that, but I would hope to have those beliefs respected - whether I choose to keep them to myself or not so much.

All of that is a lead into John Paul Newport's interesting look into the murmurs that circulate in PGA Tour circles around the growing numbers of the vocal Christian sect with Tour cards. Newport discusses insinuations that Ryder Cup captain Corey Pavin made his four captain's picks on the basis of his faith - he converted to Christianity from Judaism for his first wife.

Simply put, I don't see the influence. John Paul looked at the selections - three Christians, one Buddhist top ranked player - and came away with basically the same conclusion. With some 30 to 50 people regularly attending weekly prayer meetings at Tour stops, it's hard to wonder if up to a fourth of the field each week is a regular. Then add in the strong Republican leanings of the Tour, which is delving more frequently into religious overtones, and maybe this is more of a red-blue battle than anything.

The blue in this case, though, is that of the flag of the European Union. By and large, Europe is viewed as doubly secular and - using terribly misguided American political vernacular - socialist. The religious subtleties uttered by many players on the American squad have been and will continue to be fodder for European writers and fans which seek to jab Americans in the mouth before their charter plane even lands in Wales.

It's a condition of the passion behind the Ryder Cup. Long giving the appearance of being absent in the Americans, it appears this 2010 squad has a connection based, in part, on God - in addition to country. That combination is long an American mantra (to completely mess up this religious discussion further).

Whatever unites a team of people behind a cause for good, short of war, jihad, or crusade, should not be questioned. If the American dozen prefer to raise the communion chalice ahead of the Ryder Cup, have at it. These men find strength in what they feel is a real presence of God.

That's doesn't mean Jesus took Corey Pavin's wheel when it came to Ryder Cup picks. What does He know about picking a team of fallible people anyhow? He and Greg Norman are the only two guys that can hit a 1-iron.

Honestly, the more interesting query is: what guided Colin Montgomerie's picks? There seems to be some real conjecture about picking an Irishman out of form currently and in these matches, leaving off a two-time winner on Tour this season, and dissing a top ten player in favor of a different, marginal Englishman. 

Golf tournaments may typically end on Sundays, but the influence on the Ryder Cup's cathedral of grass is skill. Let's leave it at that.