Apparently, it's known as the feelgood factor; a tingling sensation in the gut that wends its way up through the body and culminates in a spontaneous outpouring of joyful exclamations from the mouth.

For us hattered golf writers, though, that aforementioned tingle down yonder is just the usual bout of chronic heartburn stoking itself up again while the various wheezes, squeaks and belches that tumble forth from a variety of escape routes sound about as joyous as a tolling bell on the morning after an atomic attack.

Things could be worse, of course. We could be part of the United States Ryder Cup set up. You'd probably need an industrial-sized vat full of Rennie's to temper the burning, belly-aching that has been going on in the wake of last weekend's stomach-churning defeat by Europe at Gleneagles.

No doubt, you're probably thinking 'good grief, not another Ryder Cup piece?' Don't worry, those were the exact sentiments I muttered to myself through clenched teeth as I hunched myself over the laptop and began battering away again while gulping down fistfuls of antacids.

It's all the USA's fault. If they'd just lost 16½-11½ then we could have just recorded the fact and moved on. But, no. They had to self-combust in an explosion of remorse and recriminations that continues to linger. The tales from the team room that emerged on Saturday, of an angry and confrontational get-together, was followed by Tom Watson, the beleaguered US captain, issuing an open letter in which he accepted full responsibility for the gubbing in Gleneagles. All that was missing from this pantomime was a busty dame . . . and that might come out yet.

By all accounts, Team USA appeared as dysfunctional as one of those shrieking, bickering families you get on low-level morning telly. From pinning most of the blame on his players in the immediate aftermath of the defeat, Watson has now birled full circle and taken it all on the chin. "In hindsight, whatever mistakes that were made were mine and I take complete and full responsibility for them," he said in his scribblings. Given what has gone on in the aftermath of yet another American Ryder Cup defeat, Watson's mea culpa is a bit like sticking an Elastoplast over a gouging wound inflicted by a claymore.

Amid all this, Ted Bishop, the outgoing president of the PGA of America, continues to make bold statements about a root and branch review of everything concerning the US approach to the Ryder Cup going forward. For an organisation with the word 'professional' in it, the last few days have featured nothing but amateur dramatics. Maybe Bishop too should be issuing a public apology for the wing and a prayer, vanity project he embarked on by appointing Watson in the first place.

As it stands, it is Watson who has been forced into saying sorry. There is no doubt that the defeat hurt him immensely. He was still agonising over the last-gasp loss at Medinah two years earlier and seeking to soothe that pain was one of the biggest driving forces of his captaincy. Was it Watson's idea to pen an open letter of regret or the smooth, damage limitation manoeuvrings of a polished public relations team? Probably the latter, to be honest, given how furious this grand champion, who simply hates losing, must have been feeling as his tenure continued to unravel.

The funny thing is that many observers have lamented the lack of US passion but, when the ultra-competitive Watson - if the stories are to be believed - gets stuck in to these 12 world-class players with some home truths, while mocking a gift they gave him, everybody has to go on a molly-coddled cuddling offensive to make amends.

Watson's captaincy was, naively or stubbornly, seat of the pants stuff but he did it his way and stuck by his own beliefs that had served him so well as a player: be tough, show the desire and play better. It was a simple, honest approach but in this complex Ryder Cup environment of formulas, templates and, dare we say it, pods, it just didn't cut it.

Let's not become all remorseful, though. Watson was a winning captain before, in 1993, and remains the last US captain to have tasted victory on European soil. The debacle of the 2014 Ryder Cup will be a small footnote on a stellar career burnished by eight major victories.

He may have been dubbed as something of a Captain Calamity figure but, when this golden oldie waddles over the Swilcan Bridge during a St Andrews swansong in next year's Open Championship, most folk will forgive and forget.