Older Wiser Stronger

In 2004, Paul Casey’s world threatened to collapse around him; three years later, he’s mended the cracks. Michael McEwan reports

Funny thing, fame. With one hand it gives, with the other it takes. And how much you get and how much you lose? That just depends on how well you play along.

Paul Casey knows what I mean. Having negotiated his climb up the ladder of celebrity, he slipped down one of its pitfalls. Way down.

One naïve comment mashed together with a classic example of media sensationalism becoming socially-embraced truth was all that was required to topple him from dizzy heights to desperate depths.

It was in 2004, shortly after helping Europe to a record-breaking win over the USA in the Ryder Cup at Oakland Hills, that Casey was giving an interview to a Sunday newspaper.

He was asked whether or not the relationship between the two sets of teams ever boils over to something more than just competitive rivalry.

“Oh, we properly hate them,” slipped his tongue before, thereafter, chiding the motivational tactics and general insularity of US folk.

Not unexpectedly, the tabloids seized upon what was, by now common consent, nothing more than a misinformed, tongue-in-cheek aside, and, from it, was born the headline: “Americans Are Stupid, I Hate Them, says Paul Casey”.

In an instant, all that the likeable Surrey man had worked towards was yanked from underneath him.

His contract with equipment sponsors Titleist was ended ‘by mutual agreement’ and people, from both sides of the Atlantic, queued up to slap his wrists.

“Hate was a bad word to use,” said his European team-mate Paul McGinley team-mate PaulMcGinley. Scott Verplank from the opposing side was even more scolding. “I don’t think anyone would miss him if he went back to England,” he growled. Even the wives got in on the act, Rory Sabbatini’s US-born spouse Amy sported a T-shirt bearing the legend “Stoopid Amerikan” at the very next tournament.

Some predicted Casey’s career would never recover, that the free-fall he was in would be stopped by one thing. The thud of him hitting the bottom.

Wrong. Humble and sincere, Casey has worked tirelessly to rebuild his career, winning five European Tour titles and starring in yet another Ryder Cup.

Got guts? You bet he has.
“What’s that old line,” he says, searching for an answer at Gleneagles, the place where he started his first climb up the ladder by winning the 2001 Scottish PGA. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I think that’s definitely true.
“You know, it’s frustrating because, when these things happen, it makes you very careful with what you say. Then you get people saying, ‘Athletes these days, they’re so boring...