Bill Elliot coos:
Corey Pavin, America's skipper, has been in Gwent for several days, playing and meeting and greeting and generally spreading the word that the Yanks are beside themselves with excitement at the prospect of visiting Wales. The little man – Pavin has the build of a jumps jockey – has done a very good job too. Patient, friendly, approachable and articulate, he has impressed many, a natural American abroad in this new Obama world.
Mark Reason is in love:
At his rather silly inauguration Pavin looked like Charlie Chaplin surrounded by a sexy chorus-line dressed in Santa costumes. Head-on you see a man who doesn't break eye contact. Pavin may be little in terms of the modern golfer, but he clearly thinks he's the CEO.
John Huggan merely admires:
Pavin certainly deserves respect, if only for his own record wearing a Ryder Cup sweater. Indeed, just a look at the numbers – in three appearances he played 13 matches, winning eight and losing five – isn't really enough. Back in the early 1990s, Pavin was the guy no-one wanted to play. Standing on the 18th green as dusk fell on the second day of the 1995 matches at Oak Hill, Nick Faldo certainly feared the worst as the then US Open champion settled over the match-deciding chip he would subsequently hole from the edge of the putting surface. "I had a strong sense that, yeah, this is right up his street," says the six-time major champion. "In those days, Corey had that special thing."