The kick in the teeth delivered to Russell Knox this week seemed unjust, but his omission from the Ryder Cup team served to highlight on-going issues in the land that calls itself the sport’s home.

Once again, just as in 2008 and 2010, there will be no Scot in the European team. In between times only Paul Lawrie’s rally and the late blooming of a finally fully fit Stephen Gallacher earned Scotland representation on the 2012 and 2014 teams respectively. Before that, between Lawrie’s only previous involvement, when Andrew Coltart also made his solitary appearance in 1999, it was all about Monty.

That neither Coltart, nor Gallacher registered points is almost incidental. The real issue is that Scottish golf’s status has receded in inverse proportion to the growth of Scottish Golf, the organisation that lays claim to developing the sport.

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For those of us who grew up taking Scottish representation on Ryder Cup teams for granted, weaned on names such as Eric Brown and John Panton, while Brian Barnes and Bernard Gallacher tilted in largely futile fashion at the Americans before Europe’s emergence as a genuine rival force with the likes of Sam Torrance, Sandy Lyle, Ken Brown and Gordon Brand jr, in the vanguard, the decline has been sad to witness.

In reality few of those listed above could be considered products of the Scottish system, but then there was no Scottish system. The old Scottish Golf Union quietly went about its business of aiding clubs while organising domestic events until regime change brought ambition for a different type of approach from the late nineties onwards and great claims were made of what might be achieved if the right levels of investment were injected by government.

The money duly came, the Scottish Golf Union rebranded itself Scottish Golf and set about attempting to put in place the sort of process that has generated such rewards for an array of Olympic sports by piling resources into science and support for a chosen few in the expectation of them becoming world-beaters.

Scottish golf’s problem, like that faced by our footballers and rugby players, is that it is too globally popular for narrow investment in a few to make the sort of difference that it has at GB level for the likes of cycling and rowing, or even more so at Scottish level when there is an opportunity to identify sports at which rival Commonwealth nations are weak through little interest and target them accordingly.

We have come to equate investment in sport with trophy and medal success primarily because of the transformation of Britain’s Olympic status, but that only works when others do not place the same value upon the sports in question. The real cost, meanwhile, is to the health of the nation which would be much better served by spending the multi-millions each of these medals cost in the creation of community run facilities and education programmes.

Even the most embedded commentators, those who have been cheer-leaders for ‘Team Scotland’ and ‘Team GB’, revelling in their closeness to the power-brokers and the favours consequently received in exchange for favourable coverage, are finally coming to realise that there is little or no ‘legacy’ in terms of the health of the nation.

Simon Jenkins, the highly respected columnist on The Guardian has never fitted into that cheer-leading category, but his recent comparison between what has taken place in the UK with the old Soviet Union/Eastern bloc medal factory and the sinister implications was a fine analysis of how badly this is going wrong, generating some disquiet among those who had not previously given the matter sufficient thought.

Sport matters and winning matters, but not if it is simply a case of what has literally become a win-at-all costs mentality with those that can engage best with the largest numbers of disadvantaged youngsters missing out because they lack medal potential.

Figures have been produced to demonstrate that the Olympic medal haul has grown in direct proportion to government investment in the past 20 years as evidence of success. However over the same period childhood obesity figures in the UK appear to have been climbing at a very similar rate and while sport alone cannot resolve that, it has a huge part to play.

It is, of course, unpopular to say so and life is much easier for those in this business who cosy up to the sporting power-brokers, but in these times of austerity the misdirection of public spending towards a chosen few who can produce photo opportunities for politicians, with medals hung around their necks as further honours are bestowed upon them, borders on scandalous.

Disappointing as the absence of a Scot from the Ryder Cup may be, then, if it serves to provide insight into how badly we have been fooled by the only people really winning as a result of directing vast sums into sports systems, namely those who run them, then some consolation may yet be drawn.