Times change though, and quickly in Garcia's case. Only a month after charming the US public in the year's fourth major, he was suddenly public enemy number two (after the disgracefully abused Colin Montgomerie) during the Ryder Cup in Boston. Suddenly Sergio's boisterous enthusiasm wasn't quite so endearing; more than one of Uncle Sam's nephews complained that his loud and uninhibited celebration of good shots or putts holed was over the top and more than a little obnoxious.

The Ryder Cup, in fact, has continued to be the catalyst in what has been a gradually deteriorating relationship between the new Players champion and those paid to cover golf American-style. Perhaps naively, Garcia has never hidden the enormous pleasure he takes from Europe's now routine thrashings of the US in the biennial matches. You can be sure that big cheesy grin he reserves for victorious Ryder Cup press conferences has not gone down well with either his well-beaten opponents or the all-too often obsequious press paid to cover them.

Last year, of course, a measure of revenge was taken when Garcia, in the high-stress minutes after losing to Padraig Harrington in a play-off for the Open Championship at Carnoustie, made some rather self-pitying comments he no doubt regretted almost before they were out of his mouth. It was too late though. Drawing again on the series of final round failures Garcia had suffered in majors over the last few years, it was easy for the media to portray him as a sore loser, a self-absorbed nearly-man destined never to win at the highest level because he can't putt.

Which brings us to last week at Sawgrass. In the immediate aftermath of a third round that contained three clumsy stabs from no more than 10 feet on the infamous island green, Garcia was subjected to a rigorous verbal assault from one Jimmy Roberts of NBC television. Not once, not twice, not three times, but on four occasions Roberts, a typical TV suck-up (at least when chatting amiably with compatriots) suddenly transformed into something resembling a real journalist, pressed Garcia on his well-documented putting problems. Not surprisingly in the face of such blatant and sustained bad manners – two putting-related questions would have been quite enough – the responses were ever more curt.

One day later, Garcia made no effort to hide his contempt for sections of the media. No surprise there. Even in the wake of his victory in the world's fifth biggest event, one American writer, who clearly has never experienced nor investigated the effects of high-pressure sporting competition on the human body, contended that an asterisk should be placed next to the win because Garcia – with at least three putts for the win – failed to hole out from four feet for birdie on the 73rd hole. Given that, with victory assured, the adrenaline had to have been flooding out of his body at such a moment, Garcia could surely have been forgiven such a 'lapse.'

Except in America, of course.

• And finally, the last word – at least until next year – on the 17th hole at Sawgrass, home of the Players Championship. For those who feel that the island green and all the nonsense that goes with it is 'entertaining' rather than something that should be "blown up", as Ernie Els suggested last week, an idea or, at least, a suggestion to be considered.

Let's make the hole doubly 'entertaining'. Let's make it a short but two-shot par-4. Let's have the players hit their tee-shots to the little island to the right – the one with the tree on it – then pitch from there to the present green. That way the alcohol-fuelled yobs gathered behind the tee to watch not the golf but the prospect of unwarranted disaster can each have two chances to yell their boorish and mindless chants at every competitor. Think of the enormous fun we'll all have being around a hole that eliminates completely the recovery shot – what none other than Jack Nicklaus calls 'the most exciting aspect of golf' – not once but twice.

I for one can't wait. All together now, olé, olé, olé, olé…