THE Americans are never ones to take winning lying down.

The atmosphere therefore on the first tee at Medinah yesterday morning was charged with the expectation of triumph. Victory is what every nation loves and the USA demands.

Keegan Bradley, the USA poster boy, indulged in the pre-match build-up, rushing down to the waiting hordes and conducting the home fans in that most profound of chants: USA, USA.

Bubba Watson demanded noise as he drove at the first. He was rewarded with a roar so loud that it was as if the stand had been filled with members of the Chicago Police Department and it had just been announced there were no calories in doughnuts.

This was the bright, glorious morning of 11am. Yet around 3.30pm on a sunny afternoon, it suddenly went appreciably quieter. The Americans were not singing any more. Chicago was becoming Team Europe's kinda town.

From 10-6 to the USA overnight, the scoreboards around the course around Medinah showed 10-10. Then it was 11-11. Europe had won five out of the first six matches to finish. At 5.30pm, it was 13-12 to Europe.

It was the first time Jose Maria Olazabal's side had been ahead all week. They were, incredibly, one point short of retaining the Ryder Cup, one point short of completing the most magnificent comeback in the history of Team Europe.

And then it was down to Martin Kaymer, two putts to retain the Ryder Cup on the 18th. His first slid past. His second – from a trembling, dreadful six feet – plunged into the hole. The Ryder Cup was staying in Europe. That is the most astonishing line in the most wonderful play.

But more was to follow. Francesco Molinari halved with Tiger Woods, thus ensuring the cup was won, rather than retained by the margin of one magnificent point.

The scene had been set in the morning for the greatest of dramas. And the USA suffered stage fright. American fans slipped chastened into the dusk of an Illinois evening. Their roars were but memories, their heroes were now losers.

Luke Donald, Ian Poulter, Rory McIlroy, Justin Rose and Paul Lawrie had silenced the Americans in the early encounters. Kaymer's two-putt on the last left them stunned. Molinari's effort brought the cup home.

There should, however, be an awed silence from all at both the quality of the golf and the demands this occasion made on 24 players. Sky provided a highlights tape of wonder and bloopers.

There was Paul Lawrie chipping in at the fourth, Webb Simpson, a major winner, hitting a shank at the eighth, Ian Poulter levelling at the same hole and doing the Seve fist pump, Nicolas Colsaerts hitting his drives so long at par 5s they struggled to stay in Illinois, Donald messin' up Bubba with an English sangfroid, Bubba trying to mess up Donald with the most desperate of charges, Jim Furyk's raking iron to reach the par-5 fifth in 2, Francesco Molinari plonking it inside Woods at the third to stretch two ahead, and Rory McIlroy making his tee time after confusing what time zone he was in and then, of course, beating Bradley, the American sweetheart.

Then, astonishingly, there was Kaymer, defeating Steve Stricker on the last and Molinari taking a half that every European will toast.

The points will be added up, the strokes will be analysed but this defies arithmetic. It remains the greatest of stories, the most unexpected denouement to a drama whose last line surely would be spoken in an American accent.

This, after all, was to be a victory lap for the home team. Yet there was an early intimation that it might all go wrong for the home team.

The first shot from Watson flew into the trees. His drive was so wild it deserved an ASBO. Yet he birdied the hole. There are two reasons for this seemingly unlikely outcome.

The first is that Watson is a player who improvises effortlessly. He uses a golf club the way Jim Baxter utilised his left foot.

The second is that Medinah was set up perfectly for the Americans. There is no surprise in that as Davis Love, the American captain, made constant representations as to how he wanted the course. This is the right of the home Ryder Cup captain and Love demanded a track that did not punish wayward driving and had greens so quick they had skidmarks.

Thus the big-hitting Yanks could drive for show and putt for dough. This is how they have made their millions. It is how they were supposed to win the Ryder Cup.

But they did not. The story of how Europe won is gripping for it has both a surfeit of glory and unexpectedness. It has also an element of tragedy.

This was the most memorable of achievements for the Europeans, the most wondrous of comebacks. USA held the whip hand coming into the singles with a four-point margin and the tradition of being the big dogs on the last day. USA wins the singles at the Ryder Cup, but not yesterday.

The big guns of Europe sounded loud and proud with wins from McIlroy, world No.1, Donald, world No.3, Westwood, world No.4, and Rose, world No.5. But Lawrie played beautifully to spike Brandt Snedeker, Sergio Garcia defied Furyk on the last. Poulter was brilliant in coming back to defeat Simpson. And then there was Kaymer, and Molinari.

The romantics will insist that Seve Ballesteros, who did so much to embody and revive the competitive spirit in this most enthralling of team competitions, was looking down on this patch of grass on Chicago.

There are others who would state bluntly that this sort of statement is wild, even silly and defies credibility.

Yet so did the events of just more than six hours at Medinah yesterday. And yet it happened, and all ultimately to the strains of an Ole, Ole that carried the heavy sentiment of glory but of also of gratitude to a departed friend.