Sky's talking heads have hours to fill before sleep

TV VIEW:IT'S AS well, really, that Colin Montgomerie has so many Ryder Cup Memories because without them Sky would have been rightly banjaxed yesterday.

“So, Butch,” David Livingstone might have had to ask after seven golfless hours, “what did you think of Mary Byrne on X Factor?”

“Awesome, David,” Butch would have replied, before breaking in to a rousing rendition of I Who Have Nothing.

And nothing is what they had for most of Day One, Celtic Manor a touch on the moist side after the heavens opened and failed to close. Even when the coverage started at 7am you sensed there might be watery trouble ahead, as the cacophony of rain on the umbrella under which he was sheltering made Lee Westwood nigh on inaudible.

Mind you, it was surprising Westwood was even allowed to report for duty having set Paul McGinley’s iPhone alarm to go off during Monty’s opening ceremony speech, during which Capt Europe reminded us that the Ryder Cup isn’t a matter of life or death, it’s tons more momentous.

David agreed. Wholeheartedly. “There’s no other moment like this in golf or, indeed, in any other sport,” he gushed when he welcomed us to Wales, reminding us that shindigs like the World Cup and the Olympic Games are put in the ha’penny place by the Ryder Cup.

And in fairness, he refused to allow the weather dampen his spirits, reassuring us after peering out his studio window that “it’s lightening up, at least they can see what they’re doing now”.

Actually, if we’d a dollar for every time a Sky person told us the weather hadn’t dampened the spectators’ spirits, while their cameras zoomed in on disconsolate drowned rats, we’d have collected as much as Jim Furyk at that FedEx thingie.

“Vile conditions – wet, breezy and extremely cold,” shivered Bruce Critchley.

But despite all that, play, miraculously enough, got under way. A rowdy crowd welcomed the players to the first tee, with Ian “Del Boy” Poulter receiving an especially rapturous reception.

Tiger Woods, too, got a warm enough greeting, as did his team-mate Steve Stricker.

“He’s had a few partners in his time, has Tiger,” noted Ewen Murray, “but it’s been difficult to find the right one for him.”

Who are ya telling, Ewen.

Next out was Pádraig Harrington, his mad stare-y eyes when he teed off suggesting the lad was well up for it. And Butch raised our hopes of Pádraig and Luke Donald triumphing when he told us that Jeff Overton, 50 per cent of the opposing fourball, was “a nervous kinda guy . . . like a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs”.

And with that Jeff nervelessly sank his putt on the first green.

“Atta boy,” Butch purred.

And then more rain came, Field Marshal Monty and Commander- in-Chief Corey’s troops scarpering towards the clubhouse. They’re happy to fight it out in the trenches, these boys, so long as they don’t get their feet wet.

Butch, though, pointed to the lakes forming on the course, which, admittedly, made golf difficult. The Americans “wouldn’t even go out on a day like this, much less play golf”.

So, then, hour upon rain-soaked hour to fill. Monty’s copious Ryder Cup Memories helped, enormously, as did chats with idle players and caddies. How were they passing the time?

“Food, sleep, telly, computer games,” was the gist, although Phil Mickelson and Matt Kuchar, we learnt, were locked in a deadly “ping pong” tussle.

“We’re playing Tiger Woods 2011 on the Playstation,” said Martin Kaymer, “we’re trying to beat each other. It’s funny, some players take their own,” he laughed, to explain some of his team-mates were choosing to play themselves. “Luke Donald is playing with himself,” he smiled, “it’s quite funny up there.”

Back to the studio, where David resisted asking Butch for his thoughts on how Luke was occupying his time.

Instead, the panel was able to talk golf after – Hallelujah! – the rain finally ceased. Luke and the gang could resume a more noble pursuit, ie, chasing points.

The sun very nearly came out, which is probably as much as you can hope for in Wales in October, and we were up and putting. Tomorrow? Sunshine all the way?

“I’m afraid to say there might be some fog lurking,” said Mark Roe, breaking the news as gently as he could to David. And with that David booked Butch and Mary for a I Who Have Nothing duet. Monty has lots of Ryder Cup Memories, but they’re not inexhaustible.