Walking riddle Brooks Koepka brings much-needed edge to Ryder Cup | Jonathan Liew

bYou don’t like Rooks Koepka. You may not know Brooks Koepka quite yet, but for a man of Koepka’s unyielding principles, this point would be just a formality. Perhaps at this early stage of your enmity it would be more accurate to say “he.” disapproves yours. You’re the autograph hunter who bothers him after practice. You are the person who left the annoying comment on Instagram. You’re the driver who cut him up on I-95. Maybe not you specifically, but someone like you. And let’s face it: one day it will probably be you too. To be on the safe side, it’s best to give him a wide berth.

You don’t even have to communicate directly with Koepka to get on his bad side. Earlier this year, Koepka was at a Florida Panthers hockey game when he became irritated by one of the home team’s defensemen. “Ekblad, you suck!” Koepka shouted from the stands in a video that lit up the internet within minutes. “Damn traffic cone!”

In fact, you don’t even have to be a living being. After missing the cut at last year’s Masters, an irate Koepka went back to his Mercedes and tried to smash out one of the windows. The window wouldn’t budge. Koepka tried again. Once again the window held up. To date, no one has had the audacity to suggest to Koepka’s face that Bryson DeChambeau probably would have smashed the window.

Maybe from all this you can conclude that Koepka is a man with some unresolved anger issues, the kind who could benefit from some quality time on a therapist’s couch. In fact, the five-time major winner is usually a largely subdued and laconic character, a natural introvert with all the money in the world and none of the filters. He rarely socializes with other golfers on tour, has no time for the trappings of the sport, and views the world essentially as a solo activity in which other people occasionally and uselessly try to intervene. The irritability so often characterized as self-confidence is more accurately described as self-reliance. Koepka is not immune to the doubts and demons that so many of us face. What characterizes him is his absolute determination to deal with it himself.

That sense of apartheid was evident long before the U.S. Ryder Cup team flew from Atlanta to Europe with 11 players and 11 players’ wives posing winsomely for photos on the steps of the plane. Koepka was in Chicago, where he had played in the last LIV golf tournament, and was traveling alone to Europe. He is the only LIV player selected for this year’s cup on either side. All of this adds up to a broader question: What happens when you throw golf’s ultimate lone wave into its ultimate team event?

There were certainly few clues in the sketchy, largely filter-free answers he gave to the assembled media on Wednesday. “Very little,” he replied when asked how many of the 24 players would actually want to play the decisive match with the cup at stake. There was also criticism of his fellow LIV players – such as DeChambeau or Dustin Johnson – for failing to make Zach Johnson’s team. “Play better,” he said. “That’s always the answer. I had the same opportunity as any other LIV player, and I’m here.”

And yet his Ryder Cup record for a player of Koepka’s undoubted genius remains disputed, with six wins and five defeats. Two years ago at Whistling Straits, he lost his cool in the second of two losses to Jon Rahm and Sergio García, railing against a rules official who offered him no relief when his ball rolled near a drain. That coiled anger makes him a volatile force in team play, and perhaps explains why he is much more comfortable in singles, where he has two and a half wins from three matches. For captain Johnson, the ability to successfully utilize Koepka’s idiosyncratic talents will go a long way in deciding whether the United States can retain the Cup.

But for the neutrals – to the extent that such a thing exists at the Ryder Cup – Koepka is pure box office, the fly in the ointment, a welcome antidote to the often melancholy sense of choreographed bonhomie that seems to plague the event these days. For a sport in turmoil and transition, he is one of the few true standouts, a walking enigma whose coiled magnetism will always command attention, whether you want him to win or you want him to fall flat on his face. Villain, heel, X-factor, LIV rebel: Koepka fits all of these masks and none. He may not be the star who wants the Ryder Cup. But right now, he might just be the star the Ryder Cup needs.