THEY were picking the bones out of the fourball selections last night with all the delicacy of a dinosaur with a toothpick after a night at Nandos.

The chat is about whether this guy is a good fit with that other guy, whether that template should be adopted, whether the chemistry is right between one golfer who votes Republican and has a condo and another golfer who owns a condo and votes Republican.

The Ryder Cup produces more hot air than a herd of cattle on a diet of chilli grass. But it comes down to elements that are frankly gripping in sport. First, do not believe all this nonsense about the players seeking first to defeat the course. This is matchplay. This is about beating the guy standing next to you on the first tee. This is what has disconcerted the Americans and has played to the strengths of players, especially in Britain, weaned on matchplay.

This is not about compiling a nice score over 72 holes and then basking in the glow of a top 10 finish. This is win, half or lose. It is utterly, spectacularly compelling and it produces both marvellous moments and unlikely heroes and villains. Ian Poulter who has won the same number of majors as the combined haul of the sports desk, is a figure of mythical stature in Ryder Cup. Phil Mickelson, who has won five majors, is regarded in contrast as the sort of non-achiever one would pick last in the playground.

And it is appropriate at this juncture to reference the reality that while some of these players have good friends on the other side, there is a tang to the rivalry this weekend. The Americans, frankly, are tired of being portrayed as hamburger-eating surrender monkeys. They are weary at being cast as the sort of chaps who could not bond if they were immersed in a vat of superglue.

They are, essentially, tired of being beat more often than the drum in the college marching band. It is why Mickelson was somewhat tetchy behind the permasmile on Wednesday and why Tom Watson, the USA captain, has been tense behind that Huck Finn grin.

The Americans need to learn how to win at matchplay. They need to embrace the lessons this discipline offers. They will be part of a pairing for four of the five sessions and must not only react to their opponents' shots but also those of their partners.

Of course, the same applies to Team Europe but it is starkly apparent that they have adapted to the demands of the format much better in recent competitions, winning seven out of nine. It is why Colin Montgomerie, a man whose record in majors was marked by heartbreak and, at best, a place in the runner-up berth, was named as best Ryder Cup player by the BBC after a thorough statistical analysis.

The Ryder Cup is not just a test of golf or even of nerve. It is an examination of how players react to situations that are unusual for them and pivot sometimes on finding a way to play with another human being when one is accustomed to making every decision, executing every shot for both oneself and for the percentage.

The essence of the competition will be found on the greens. A shrewd observer, nurtured on matchplay, pointed out yesterday that the best advice was: "Make all the short putts."

This places pressure on the opponent and that is what matchplay is all about whatever the haverings about pairings and chemistry. This, too, is what makes it so compelling. There will be no players over the weekend not in contention, nobody just glad to make the cut.

Instead, there will be 24 golfers who will be mercilessly judged shot by shot. The oddsmakers favour Europe but the Americans almost need to prevail. The pressure may either galvanise them or crush them. Matchplay golf. It's brutal.