There are many ways to travel back from a Ryder Cup. This correspondent is well aware of that as I embarked on the kind of circuitous, round-the-houses route from Hazeltine that would have had Phileas Fogg saying ‘sod this boys, I’ll just sit this leg out’. All being well, we should arrive back on home soil just in time to see Tico Torres knife one into the bunker on the fifth at this week’s Dunhill Links Championship.

The twin cities of Minneapolis-St Paul provided a creative, cultured hub for the weekend’s to-ings and fro-ings. Apparently some academic thinkers believe living in an isolated and well-educated region that spends part of the year in a deep freeze encourages rigorous abstract thought. Regular readers of this meandering column probably think I have established a sturdy beachhead out there.

The 41st Ryder Cup certainly stirred the senses and the level of competition was simply staggering. This was a showpiece occasion in which some of the best players on the planet raised themselves up on to a higher plain and found a level of engagement that was quite breathtaking. Phil Mickelson, at 46, reeled off 10 birdies in a halved match with the equally inspired Sergio Garcia while Rory McIlroy and Patrick Reed operated on a level of emotion, exuberance and captivating excellence that reminded all and sundry that this biennial battle remains well and truly entrenched in the pantheon of great sporting occasions.

In the aftermath of the USA’s 17-11 triumph, McIlroy himself admitted the vivacity he had expelled during the early stages of that tumultuous tussle with Reed finally caught up with him. A few years ago, McIlroy labelled the Ryder Cup an “exhibition”. At Hazeltine he was Europe’s on-course leader to the point where he put so much into the war effort, he was emotionally sapped by the end of it.

Reed too was on another planet and the Texan is the kind of all-guns-blazing Ian Poulter-style frontman that Team USA have been crying out for for years. In many ways, he is the full-bodied American – all of the good and all of the bad. His declaration a couple of years back that he was one of the best five players in the world made him a figure of scorn in golfing circles. He has yet to break into that territory. Indeed, he doesn’t have a top-10 finish in a major championship. Yet, in the Ryder Cup he taps into something quite extraordinary and thrusts himself to the vanguard.

That is the majesty of this contest, of course. Golf at the top level is, by and large, an individual sport and one that carries selfish, single-minded goals and ambitions. Coming together as one for the benefit of a greater cause once every two years is a huge lure.

Raw emotion is encouraged. Players, perhaps reserved for much of the touring year, suddenly find themselves bursting out of the strait-jacket. Golf as a whole does too.

The game’s ills are often and easily trotted out but the last few months have showcased the very best in what the sport can offer, both in execution and in spirit. Mickelson and Henrik Stenson’s final duel in the Open at Troon was a spell-binding spectacle for the ages while golf’s venture back into the Olympics proved to be highly successful. Those charged with nurturing the global game are always seeking new ways to energise the sport and embrace fresh markets. The Ryder Cup does all of this, and has been doing it for a while now. In stark contrast, we will be back to the hum-drum, prolonged Pro-Am palaver that is the Dunhill Links this week in which the action unfolds at a pace usually reserved for long-term coastal erosion. As a spectacle it can often be as easy on the eye as surgery on an open leg wound. Those who tuned in for Hazeltine will be switching off in their droves again. The Ryder Cup lures in the masses who never normally engage with the sport. Capitalising on that and holding that intrigue and interest remains the challenge.

Of course, with a so-called ‘non-golfy’ scene comes problems. The boorish, boozy oafs who tarnished affairs at Hazeltine cannot be tolerated and the fact that great swathes of decent, respectful spectators swiftly pointed the offenders out and had the slack-jawed dimwits ejected was encouraging. Self-policing and education among fans? Perhaps sections of the support of some Scottish football clubs could take note.