The United States of underachievers

Statistically, nothing much has changed.

Psychologically, though, that superiority complex has largely evaporated even if you still get a few echoes of the Hogan era, like the open letter sent from the Governor of Michigan, Jennifer Granholm, to Sutton's crew telling them "you are the best players in the world and we are proud to have you represent the United States of America".

In a way, Mickelson's contention now has a ring of truth to it. Most here no longer believe that America have the golfers who can intimidate.

Led by a star, Tiger Woods, who they believe thinks more of himself than his team and has an almost criminally poor record in this event for a player of his unrivalled gifts, they look down the roster and, apart from Mickelson, can see few names to inspire.

There's Jay Haas, a 50-year-old who hasn't won for 11 years and admitted "choking" when he lost to the almost unknown Philip Walton on his last Cup appearance at Oak Hill in 1995. What a bizarre captain's pick he is.

Then there's Kenny Perry, a 44-year-old debutant who's been wallowing in mediocrity ever since a golden month or two last year earned him his place.

And Fred Funk, a 48-year-old Cup new boy who's missed the cut nine times in 24 events this year. Hardly names to engender terror.

Take away "Dad's Army" and then think of our young guns. This time, it really is tempting to favour a fresh, hungry-looking, inform crew, with its thrusting quartet of twenty-something Englishmen - Paul Casey, Ian Poulter, David Howell and Luke Donald - over their US equivalents like Chris DiMarco, who ended up seeking help from a psychologist only last month after his game collapsed in The International tournament.

Then there's Chris Riley, whose nerve under the gun has to be questioned after blowing his opportunity to get into the US PGA play-off with a dismal threeputt, and Chad Campbell, who hasn't finished better than 19th in his last eight events.

Little wonder Colin Montgomerie says he is tempted to go along with Mickelson's verdict that "this might be the first Ryder Cup in history where the Europeans start favourites".

Watching the young Brit pack

here, it's hard not to be encouraged by their poise and strut.

The cocksure Casey may live in the US but he likes to rub it into Americans where his heart lies. Like his mates, he comes over as if nothing would motivate him more than turning over Sutton's boys.

Growing up, he remembers watching the ugliness of the "War on the Shore" at Kiawah Island and it made him think "I want to beat these guys every time we get an opportunity . . . I really want to win it and give them hell." With our rookies, there appears not a shred of self-doubt.

Indeed, they were even forced to answer suggestions here yesterday about whether there was a danger of European over-confidence.

Of course, it always used to be the Americans who got asked this, yet you suspect that playing up this idea that the teams' traditional roles have been reversed can only suit the hosts.

At the Belfry two years ago, Sam Torrance came out with the line about how "out of the shadows come heroes".

By now selling themselves as blue-collar underdogs, could it be easier for one of the most workaday-looking US teams of recent vintage to unearth their own unsung legend?

"We're hungry now," said Mickelson. Hmm.

The danger for Europe now is that they are not facing the 12 finest golfers in the world anymore, but just 12 hungry men.