But things went down from there.

A couple of years later my game disintegrated. It's hard to explain. The mental side of my game just went and I don't know if i will ever come back.

I hope so, because I still play a really nice round of golf, but you need something more and I haven't been able to find it.

I needed something more that day in 1995 too. People cannot understand the pressure. It's a frightening experience and you have to have a really big heart and huge courage. And it's strange. I've been down at the K Club these last few days and have been on the other side of the fence, in with the crowds trying to get a look. It's just a mass of people.

But out there on the course, it's just space. You're aware that all these people expect and there are millions of eyes on you, but there is plenty of room for you to think about that and realise just what's going on. But there's the adrenalin too and in a Ryder Cup it pumps through your body like you can't explain.

That day in Oak Hill it certainly did.

Up to that point it had been a strange Ryder Cup in '95. I never got to play on the Monday and just got one game before the singles. That came on the Saturday morning where I was paired with Ian Woosnam and he played absolutely crap. We lost one down to Loren Roberts and Peter Jacobsen but he was absolutely atrocious. He wasn't hitting the ball well, wasn't putting well, but when we walked off the 18th green Bernard Gallagher approached him and told him to prepare himself for the afternoon games.

I've rarely had a feeling like it. I was left off yet this guy was playing. It was a mixture of shock and anger and disgust. I didn't want to be there and if I could, I would have gotten out of there and went home.

It's so difficult watching so much of an event like that from the lines. But what made it all seem better on the Sunday was when I met Jay Haas on the tee for our singles. I hadn't given much thought to the pairing. Instead I was concentrating on my own game and doing what I could for the team. But when I went to shake hands with him I looked up and he was white.

He looked like a ghost and he was clearly a little scared. I knew at that moment I had a real chance.

We needed everything to go well because we were behind going into those singles and they did across the board. They were going well for me as well . . . I found myself in a position of being three up with three to play. It should have been over there on the 16th. I don't know if people remember but Haas found himself in a bunker and didn't hit a great shot. It came out low and hard and looked to be going way behind the pin. At that moment I thought my job was done but the ball hit the stick hard and dropped. But I wasn't worried. I'd always been taught to expect something like that.

Expect the shot that flukes in or the long putt and because I'd been brought up with that thinking, I wasn't worried.

Nor was I when he won the next.

But he hit a bad tee shot on the last and I remember him taking forever with his third shot. It was about eight minutes and I was wondering when all this was going to be over. My normal shot off the tee was a low fade but with all the people leaning over the ropes, I couldn't hit it. I only needed a half and after his third, it looked like a five was going to be enough. I pitched to about 12 feet and rolled my putt dead. What a feeling and what a win.

It was a strange team, with the likes of Nick Faldo going through a divorce, and there were other little quirks.

Things weren't easy, but to sink the winning putt, it made the rest worthwhile.

What are the chances of an Irishman doing something similar this time? I think Europe will have too much for the Americans again so why not?