Ryder Cup is wet, wild, dark and unpredictable

From Newport, Wales

They should rename this Ryder Cup the Himalayan Open. It has the same number of peaks and valleys.

Saturday, the U.S. team got to the top of Everest just after lunch time, and by dusk, it was back down at base camp. On the way down, it passed the Europeans, en route to the summit.

Because of the seven-hour rain delay Friday, the golfing days begin here and never finish. You get a half round here, another half there — matches, matches everywhere. If you are trying to follow at home, eight hours behind the action, don’t bother. Life is confusing enough without trying to distinguish the difference between foursomes and four-balls in a time delay, as well as figuring out why the U.S. team is wearing lilac sweaters.

Yes, that’s the same U.S. team that started the event Friday with leaky rain suits. Will this U.S. Ryder Cup team go down in history as golf heroes or sartorial sad sacks?

This thing could end Sunday, although the first thing you may see when you click on your TV sets early Sunday morning could be people under umbrellas. Rain is forecast — when isn’t rain in the forecast in Wales in October? This is a spectacular golf course at a spectacular resort, which would be even more spectacular if it were, say, in Spain.

If the rains even make a short appearance Sunday, the ending of this 38th Ryder Cup will be Monday.

“Any delays at all,” said Colin Montgomerie, Europe’s captain, “and we won’t finish tomorrow.”

Saturday was eventful in the way the oceanfront is eventful. You had ebbs, then flows. Waves crashed and gathered, then did it again. The unusual wasn’t. The predictable didn’t. In most sports, you need a scorecard to tell the players. In this one, you need a rain gauge and a psychologist.

The U.S. team had a great run in the six foursomes, which is when two team members alternate shots. After that ended, at about 2:30 p.m., our underdog Yanks, the Lilac Gang, had shocked the golf world by taking a 6-4 lead. Team USA, which holds the Cup, needs only eight more points to keep it. Europe, which lost it two years ago in Louisville, needs 10½ more to get it back.

And while that 10½ looked like a tough task, by the end of the day, when six more matches — two foursomes and four four-balls — had been called off the course because of darkness, it looked much easier. Europe was leading all six matches to be finished Sunday morning, one by as much as four-up. What goes up, must come down, and that’s the apparent direction of the U.S. team, with those six matches and 12 singles matches still to be calculated.

Amidst all this ebbing and flowing are some noteworthy people. Focusing on them can ease the headache pain of trying to distinguish a foursome from a four-ball.

The key U.S. point, making it 6-4 rather than 5-5, came from the Stewart Cink-Matt Kuchar team. Cink made two pressure iron shots and one long putt that thrust a sword into the Europeans’ heart. His performance was a reminder that he still is not getting his due.

Remember, Cink won the British Open in 2009.

You didn’t remember? Well, that’s because the entire story was Tom Watson almost winning. Cink is a terrific player, a fascinating person with a quick quip and a sharp sense of humor and he will go to his grave as the guy who won the British Open that Watson almost did. That would infuriate most. Not Cink. He embraces it and gives you five more quotes about what a great guy Watson is.

Then there is Steve Stricker, the other hero so far for team USA. His teammate is Tiger Woods. They somehow have this chemistry that has allowed them to be very successful for several years in various team competitions. Saturday, they won their second match, the only team to do that so far.

How do two people so un-similar do so well together, or as Stricker says, “jell?”

That’s easy. Just as Cink is lost in Watson and is mature enough to handle it, so, too, is Stricker lost in Woods. The crowds come to watch Tiger and Stricker makes the putts. The guy hitting the ball into the trap is the one everybody is coming to see. The guy hitting it out is a fan afterthought.

If things continue as they have the first two days, Stricker might need extra Advil for back pain. But you’ll never get a moment’s recognition of that, or anger about it, because that’s not Stricker. He is golf’s quiet man, although with wit and depth not unlike Cink.

He comes from Wisconsin, life’s slow lane of fish fries, nice neighbors and a couple of beers at the corner bar. He also may be, currently, the best golfer in the world, despite those computerized, unintelligible rankings. But he’d be the last guy in the world to claim that, or even want to talk about it.

His golf marriage with Woods is made somewhere other than heaven, but it somehow works … even when you put them in lilac sweaters.

bill.dwyre@latimes.com