The Cog: Ryder Cup Breakdown

Dear Golfers,

On Tuesday we talked about why most visualization is just expensive daydreaming and how Tour players actually program their brains for performance. Today, we're diving into something that just gave us the most incredible real time mental performance data we've ever seen: the 2025 Ryder Cup.

Europe just beat the United States 15-13 at Bethpage Black, marking their first away victory since 2012. In New York. On American soil. With what was supposed to be the world's most hostile home crowd advantage. Instead, the USA got absolutely worked by a European team that looked like they were playing a casual Sunday round while Team USA's brains melted under pressure.

But forget the final score for a minute. What just happened over those three days was a masterclass in how elite golfers' brains either rise to impossible pressure or completely fall apart under it.

And for the first time ever, we got to watch it happen in real time with actual biometric data. Justin Thomas was wearing a WHOOP during his singles match, and when the broadcast showed his heart rate standing over a 4-foot putt, every sport psychologist in the world simultaneously lost their minds with excitement.

We're about to break down what happened mentally at Bethpage, why the world's best golfer went 0-4 in team sessions, how Tommy Fleetwood went perfect, and what Justin Thomas's heart rate data tells us about performing under the most intense pressure in golf.

Buckle up. This one's going to be good.

Let's start with the moment that made this Ryder Cup different from every other one in history. Justin Thomas, standing over a 4-foot putt during his singles match against Tommy Fleetwood, with live WHOOP data showing his heart rate at 139 beats per minute.

To put that in perspective, that's approaching the heart rate you'd have during a moderately intense cardio workout. For a 4-foot putt. That most Tour players make in their sleep during regular tournaments.

The broadcast showed his heart rate fluctuating throughout the hole. Started in the 130s, settled briefly to 122 when he was going through his routine, then spiked back to 125 after he missed a previous putt. This wasn't just interesting TV. This was a window into exactly what we've been talking about in previous editions about nervous system activation under pressure.

Here's what makes this data so valuable. We've always known that Ryder Cup pressure is different. Players talk about feeling more nervous than major championships. But now we have actual biometric proof of what's happening physiologically when national pride is on the line.

Research by Dr. Geir Jordet, who studies pressure performance in elite athletes, shows that heart rate elevation under pressure isn't inherently bad. What matters is whether the athlete can perform their skills with elevated arousal. Some players thrive with higher activation (remember our sympathetic nervous system discussion?), while others need to bring their arousal down to perform optimally.

Justin Thomas, to his credit, made clutch putts throughout that match including a closing birdie on 18 to beat Tommy Fleetwood 1-up. His nervous system was running hot, but he'd trained his skills to execute even with a heart rate in the 130s. That's elite pressure performance. He beat one of Europe's best players who had gone 4-0 in team sessions. That takes serious mental fortitude.

Now let's talk about the most shocking mental performance story of the week. Scottie Scheffler, the world number one, winner of two majors this year, the guy who's been absolutely unstoppable in 2024, went 0-4-0 in team sessions. Zero wins, four losses, zero halves. He called it the "lowest moment" of his professional career.

Let me put this in perspective. Scottie Scheffler losing four matches in a row is like watching Michael Jordan miss free throws or Tom Brady throw interceptions to the backups. This wasn't a physical skills problem. This is the same guy who dominated professional golf all year. This was purely mental, and it offers an incredible case study in how team dynamics and pressure can completely hijack even the most elite performer's nervous system.

The USA came into Bethpage expecting Scheffler to be their anchor, their steadying force. Instead, he became Exhibit A in how Ryder Cup pressure is fundamentally different from any other golf pressure that exists.

Dr. Aidan Moran's research on choking in sport shows that elite athletes are most vulnerable to performance collapse when several factors align: high ego involvement, unfamiliar format, consequences beyond personal control, and audience scrutiny. The Ryder Cup checks every single one of those boxes.

But here's what's fascinating about Scheffler's collapse. He wasn't playing badly by normal standards. He was playing like a very good professional golfer. The problem was his opponents were playing like they had ice in their veins while Scheffler was clearly feeling the weight of expectations.

Watch the footage and you can see it in his body language. Tension in his shoulders, faster tempo than usual, less commitment over putts. These are classic signs of a sympathetic nervous system in overdrive without the parasympathetic balance we talked about in Edition 3.

The lesson here isn't that Scheffler can't handle pressure. The lesson is that Ryder Cup pressure is fundamentally different from individual tournament pressure, and even the world's best player needs specific mental training for team format pressure.

On the opposite end of the mental performance spectrum, we have Tommy Fleetwood going 4-1. Nearly perfect record. Partnered with Rory McIlroy for most of his matches, and together they were absolutely dominant.

What made Fleetwood's performance so impressive wasn't just that he won almost everything. It's that he looked completely calm doing it. His tempo never changed. His routine stayed consistent. His commitment level over crucial putts looked identical to his commitment level over meaningless putts.

This is what optimal nervous system balance looks like under extreme pressure. Fleetwood had enough sympathetic activation to stay sharp and engaged, but enough parasympathetic tone to maintain his smooth tempo and clear decision-making.

Research published in the Journal of Sport and Exercise Psychology shows that elite performers who maintain consistent routines under pressure perform significantly better than those whose routines become erratic. Fleetwood's routine looked machine-like all week.

His one loss? That came on Sunday singles against Justin Thomas, who we'll talk about next. But even in that match, Fleetwood fought hard and only lost 1-up when Thomas made a closing birdie on 18. The mental fortitude to perform at that level all week, even in a losing effort on Sunday, shows exactly what elite Ryder Cup preparation looks like.

One of the most interesting psychological aspects of the Ryder Cup is how partnerships either amplify performance or completely derail it. McIlroy and Fleetwood were dominant together, looking like they'd been playing as a team their entire lives. Scheffler and his partners struggled across the board, looking like they'd just met in the parking lot that morning.

Dr. Jennifer Cumming's research on team dynamics in golf shows that partnerships create unique pressure situations that don't exist in individual play. You're not just worried about your own performance, you're worried about letting your partner down, your team down, and your entire country down. Oh, and also dealing with a crowd that's throwing beer at your opponents' wives while squeaking rubber ducks during your backswing. More on that disaster in a minute.

This additional layer of ego involvement can either focus attention (if you have the right mental skills) or completely fragment it (if you don't). When you're standing over a putt and you're thinking about your partner's last shot, your team's current position, and what the crowd will think if you miss, your attentional focus is scattered across too many concerns.

The partnerships that worked this week (McIlroy/Fleetwood, Hovland/Aberg for periods) showed one consistent trait: they looked like they were playing golf together, not worrying together. The partnerships that struggled looked like two players independently anxious instead of one cohesive unit.

This is why partnership practice matters so much in Ryder Cup prep. You're not just learning each other's games. You're learning how to manage your collective nervous system activation and keep each other in optimal performance zones.

While we're talking about mental performance, we need to mention Cameron Young going 2-0 in his team sessions. Young was one of the few bright spots for the American team, and his performance illustrates an interesting psychological phenomenon: the rookie advantage.

Sometimes, not knowing how hard something is supposed to be is actually an advantage. Young didn't have years of Ryder Cup history weighing on him. He didn't have previous losses to think about. He just went out and played golf.

Research by Dr. Rich Masters on the "reinvestment hypothesis" shows that experienced performers sometimes choke under pressure because they start consciously monitoring skills that should be automatic. Rookies, lacking that experience, sometimes perform better because they're not overthinking.

Young looked free out there. His tempo was smooth, his commitment level was high, and he played like someone who didn't fully appreciate how much pressure he was supposed to be feeling. That's not ignorance, that's a massive psychological advantage.

The challenge for Young moving forward will be maintaining that freedom while gaining experience. Many rookies who perform well in their first Ryder Cup struggle in subsequent appearances once they fully understand the pressure.

Now let's talk about Bryson DeChambeau, who went 1-3-1 and somehow managed to be both the unluckiest and most analytically overthinking player at Bethpage. This was DeChambeau's first Ryder Cup since 2021, having missed the 2023 event after his move to LIV Golf, and his performance perfectly illustrates what happens when a hyper analytical brain meets team golf chaos.

Here's what made Bryson's week so fascinating from a mental performance perspective. On Friday, statistics showed he was actually playing well. He was hitting fairways, making putts, doing all the things that usually lead to winning matches. And yet he lost both his matches. Golf analysts called him the "unluckiest player" of Day 1, which is a nice way of saying his brain was working overtime while results refused to cooperate.

This is the curse of the analytical performer in a chaotic format. DeChambeau's entire approach to golf is built on control, precision, and scientific optimization. He calculates everything. He measures everything. He optimizes everything. This works brilliantly in stroke play where you control your own destiny. In match play, especially team formats, half the variables are completely outside your control.

Dr. Sian Beilock's research on performance anxiety shows that analytical, detail oriented performers are particularly vulnerable in situations with high uncertainty and low control. When you can't control the outcome through preparation and analysis, your brain starts spinning its wheels trying to find patterns and solutions that don't exist.

Watch footage of Bryson during team play and you can see the wheels turning. He's processing every shot, every situation, trying to calculate optimal plays in a format where optimal doesn't always matter. His partner hits a bad shot? Bryson's brain is now recalculating everything. The Europeans hole an impossible putt? Time to adjust the entire mental strategy.

But here's where it gets interesting. On Sunday, in singles, Bryson won his match. When he got back to individual format where he controlled all the variables, his analytical brain could function properly again. No partner to worry about, no external chaos to process, just Bryson versus his opponent in the format his brain was wired for.

This isn't a knock on DeChambeau's mental game. It's actually fascinating insight into how different cognitive styles perform in different competitive contexts. His scientific, optimization-based approach has won him major championships. It's just not ideally suited for the organized chaos of Ryder Cup team formats.

The irony? The Bethpage crowd absolutely loved Bryson. He was one of the most popular Americans on the course, signing autographs, engaging with fans, being the showman. His mental struggle wasn't with pressure or nerves. It was with trying to apply a stroke play brain to a match play team format.

If Team USA wants to optimize Bryson for future Ryder Cups, they need to train him to turn off the analytical processor during team play and just react. Less calculation, more trust. But that's asking a guy who's built his entire career on calculation to suddenly stop calculating. Good luck with that.

We need to talk about the elephant in the room, or more accurately, the 40,000 drunk elephants at Bethpage Black who somehow thought they were helping Team USA by acting like absolute maniacs.

The Bethpage crowd was supposed to be America's secret weapon. Instead, they became the story for all the wrong reasons. Someone threw a beer at Rory McIlroy's wife. People were squeaking rubber ducks during players' backswings. The vulgar chants got so bad that Tom Watson, an eight time major champion and American golf legend, publicly stated he was "ashamed" of the fan behavior.

Let me repeat that. Tom Watson. ASHAMED. Of American golf fans. At an American Ryder Cup. That's like having your grandfather tell you he's disappointed in you at Thanksgiving dinner.

Here's the psychological irony that these fans completely missed. When you create a hostile, abusive environment, you're not giving your team an advantage. You're creating additional pressure on your own players who now have to perform while their fans are making international news for terrible behavior.

Meanwhile, the European team used it as fuel. Rory McIlroy, who was the primary target of the abuse, literally led chants mocking the crowd after Europe won. The more the crowd tried to rattle the Europeans, the more focused and unified they became. It was like watching someone try to intimidate a honey badger and wondering why it's not working.

Research on crowd effects in sport by Dr. Sandy Wolfson shows that hostile crowds only help the home team when they create positive energy and support. When crowds become abusive and cross lines, they actually create additional cognitive load for home players who now have to manage embarrassment and distraction on top of normal competitive pressure.

The USA players had to play golf while their own fans were getting ejected for behavior, making headlines for all the wrong reasons, and basically proving every stereotype about American sports fans. That's not home field advantage. That's a psychological nightmare.

And the result? Europe won their first away Ryder Cup in 13 years, McIlroy became a hero, and American golf fans became an international punchline. Mission accomplished, Bethpage.

Let's come back to that WHOOP data because it represents a massive shift in how we can understand and train pressure performance.

For decades, sport psychologists have been asking athletes "how nervous did you feel?" and getting subjective answers that might or might not be accurate. Now we can see exactly what's happening physiologically in real time.

Justin Thomas's heart rate data showed something fascinating. His heart rate wasn't just elevated, it was fluctuating based on the situation. It would spike before crucial putts, settle slightly during his routine, then spike again based on results. This is exactly what we'd expect from someone whose nervous system is responding appropriately to pressure cues.

Dr. Paul McCarthy's research on cardiac coherence in athletes shows that heart rate variability (which we'll dive deep into in a future edition) is actually a better predictor of pressure performance than absolute heart rate. An athlete with a heart rate of 140 but good variability might perform better than an athlete with a heart rate of 120 but poor variability.

What this means for your mental training: you can train your nervous system to perform at various arousal levels. The goal isn't to always be calm. The goal is to maintain your skills regardless of your arousal level.

This is why stress inoculation training (practicing under pressure) is so crucial. You're not trying to eliminate the nervous system response. You're training your skills to work even when your heart rate is elevated.

Sunday's singles matches showed another fascinating psychological phenomenon. The Americans, already down significantly, mounted a serious comeback. Several players who had struggled all week suddenly found their form when playing individually.

This illustrates something important about pressure and performance. Individual pressure, even in a Ryder Cup, is familiar to Tour players. They've spent their entire careers performing in individual formats. When they got back to that familiar structure, many of them found their optimal performance state again. Also, the crowd couldn't ruin their partners' concentration anymore because, you know, no partners.

Bryson DeChambeau, who struggled in team play, fought hard in his singles match. The format change reduced the ego involvement (only letting yourself down, not a partner) and put him back in a performance context his brain recognized.

But by then it was too late. Europe had built enough of a lead through team play that the American singles performance, while impressive, wasn't enough to overcome the deficit. Turns out you can't spot the other team a massive lead and expect to make it all back on Sunday. Who knew math was important in golf?

This is one of the great strategic elements of the Ryder Cup. Teams that perform well in the team formats have a massive psychological advantage heading into Sunday because they've built momentum and put pressure on their opponents.

You're probably thinking, "That's great, but I'm not playing in the Ryder Cup. What does this mean for my Saturday morning fourball?" Well, hopefully you're also not playing in front of a crowd throwing beer at people and squeaking rubber ducks, so you've got that advantage already.

Here's what you can learn from this week's mental performance masterclass (and disaster):

Your nervous system will activate under pressure. That's not failure. Justin Thomas had a heart rate of 139 over a 4 footer and still performed. Stop trying to eliminate nervousness. Start training your skills to work even when you're nervous.

Partnerships change everything. If you play team formats, practice with your partner beforehand. Learn how to manage collective nervous system activation, not just your own. And maybe don't act like the Bethpage crowd if you're watching them play.

Routine consistency is everything under pressure. Fleetwood's routine looked identical on every shot, whether he was 4 up or getting beaten by Justin Thomas on Sunday. When pressure increases, your routine should stay the same.

Experience with specific pressure matters. Scheffler's collapse doesn't mean he can't handle pressure. It means he hadn't trained for this specific type of pressure. If you have a tournament or format you struggle with, you need specific mental rehearsal for that exact situation.

Monitor your arousal, but don't judge it. Those heart rate fluctuations Thomas showed? Completely normal. What matters is whether you can execute your skills at various arousal levels. Also, maybe don't let your playing partners act like drunk toddlers. It doesn't help.

This week: Next time you feel nervous before a round or crucial shot, acknowledge it instead of fighting it. "My heart rate is elevated because this matters to me" beats "I shouldn't be nervous" every single time.

This month: Practice your routine at various arousal levels. Hit balls when you're calm. Hit balls after sprinting to elevate your heart rate. Train your skills to work regardless of your nervous system state.

This season: If you play team golf, practice with your partners before the event. Not just playing together, but specifically practicing how you'll communicate, manage nerves, and support each other under pressure.

The 2025 Ryder Cup just gave us the most transparent look at elite mental performance we've ever had. Players' hearts racing, nervous systems activating, some thriving and some collapsing under identical pressure.

The difference wasn't talent. The difference was mental preparation for that specific type of pressure.

Time to start training your brain like your performance actually depends on it. Because it does.

The Cog is where golfers come to upgrade their mental game. Every Tuesday and Friday!