As I write, two Concordes, filled with America and Europe's best and most nervous are on a collision course, so to speak.
They are headed for Malaga on the Costa del Sol, and I have a very uneasy feeling. There may be trouble ahead. I'm predicting ugly scenes at some stage of the festivities, perhaps at a function or maybe on the first tee, but somewhere something nasty will happen.
Maybe Miguel Martin will float naked onto the last green from the sky with a stars and stripes parachute hoisted on the old flagpole. I wouldn't blame him. Also I wouldn't be surprised if he owns the European Tour come this time next year if his lawsuit is successful, which it undoubtedly will be.
Ignacio Garrido may not play too much before Sunday given his well publicized verbal insubordination. Criticizing El Capitano might not have been a smart career move although you have to admire his courage. All is not well on the European team.
I read somewhere recently about the possible influence of the Spanish crowd. Let me tell you something about the crowd at Valderrama this week. There will be more Spanish people on the European team. Nobody plays golf in Spain, they're all too busy chasing bulls, riding horses, stamping their feet, eating roses and drinking red wine. So there.
Having said this I still make the European team favorites. (What did you expect?)
Much has been written about the strength of the U.S. side but little about the Ryder Cup factor. A lump of coal, placed between the butt cheeks of even the most experienced player, takes about 4 holes under Ryder Cup conditions, will turn into a diamond.
I'll be glued to the goggle box, waiting for the inevitable scuffle. If I can stop my hands from shaking I'll tap you all a line or two during the weekend fracas. Not that I would be one to say I told you so!