Business & Finance CLub - Newport, Wales: Lee Westwood was officially enthroned as the world's number two golfer yesterday, yet it took him precisely 47 minutes here at Celtic Manor to quite outplay the man at whose right hand he now sits. Tiger Woods' feudal right to rule the roost can no longer be sustained when he gets duffed up quite as badly as this.

The sight of Tiger giving of his best and finding it consistently and dazzlingly bettered by a man who, if he can forgive the imagery, really now ought to be dubbed "Son of Monty" almost beggared belief as well as triggering the explosion of joy that ignited this great European comeback.

Woods could only offer a dignified hand and a pout; the hiding for him and Steve Stricker by Westwood and Luke Donald represented his biggest ever defeat and made it seven-one to Westwood in their matches stretching back to 1997 over six editions.

Yes, it has come to that; Woods as Westwood's Ryder Cup plaything. And so now we come to the perfect stage for Westwood to prove teammate Padraig Harrington's contention that it is not a question of if but when he ends Woods's 277-week reign at the top of the world golf rankings, because, actually, he is already the best.

Batting order

Montgomerie's decision to send him out first in the batting order yesterday against Stricker was, as his opposition would say, the ultimate "no brainer" since this supposedly rusty, aching soul, following his seven-week absence with his leg muscle rupture, has set the agenda every day. Colossal is the word.

On Friday, he launched Europe's challenge in the dark and a downpour with a fairway-splitter. On Saturday, he put the first European point on the board. And, on Sunday, after marching through the locker room door over which Monty's poster demanding a supercharged start had been pinned, he obeyed irresistibly. Four up overnight, he needed just six shots to finish the job.

And five were magnificent. None better than the first, though. At the par three 10th, his wondrous 40ft putt elicited a roar which made you fear that the slavering Montysaurus, champing at greenside, might actually eat him. Woods's response was to almost chip in from the fringe. A great effort but agonising.

Tiger, whose play had been so shambolic on Saturday night that it was an echo of his season's nadir in Akron in August, was at least offering a champion's scrap. At the par five 11th, he flopped a chip to about 10ft but Westwood responded with one to three feet. Hole to Europe.

After Woods then played another excellent approach to 20 feet at the 12th, Westwood plonked his to 10 feet. Woods must have felt this was getting personal. All the time, Donald was providing a quietly, immaculate foil. No fuss, no histrionics, just solidity.

Love of the crowd

When Stricker made his putt at the 12th, Donald responded. "Luuuuuke!" went the cry which sounds like booing but is just the crowd's audible love letter. To general amazement, Westwood then actually found a greenside bunker with his tee shot at 13.

But once Donald splashed out to seven feet, there was not the remotest possibility his partner would miss.

He offers certainty in one of sport's most uncertain arenas. The kill had been mercilessly swift.