CHASKA, Minn. -- There are plenty of Arnold Palmer stories from the Ryder Cup, but this specific one took place the night before the opening session of the 1975 edition. Palmer was serving as United States captain that year for the second time, his first without also playing.
In those days, it wasn't whether the U.S. team would win -- the only question was by how much. That night, Palmer gathered his players together, looked each one of them in the eye, and declared his expectations for the week.
"I don't want them," he said of the Great Britain and Ireland opposition, "to make a point."
Though his team didn't pitch a shutout that week, the convincing 21-11 victory serves as just part of Palmer's legacy in the biennial contest.
He was 2-0 as a captain, and his team never lost in a half-dozen appearances as a player. His 22 match victories remain the most in U.S. history. He is tied for the most points in singles matches and the most points in foursomes and is a half-point from also tying for the most in four-ball matches.
The event was right up his alley. Competition, camaraderie, celebration -- he thrived on all of it.
Palmer died on the eve of this week's Ryder Cup, which is fitting, in a way. It gives the golf world a chance to celebrate him in an atmosphere that he would've cherished.
It also gives the American team an opportunity to honor the icon by finishing this week the only way he ever knew -- with a victory.
The guys in red, white and blue shouldn't require any extra inspiration. Losses in three straight Ryder Cups and six of the last seven should provide all the proverbial kick-in-the-butt they'd ever need. They should've already been jonesing to win this thing for just the second time this century.
If they needed just a little more incentive, though, now they have it in a new rallying cry.
Win one for The King.
This is hardly an original concept. Four years ago, the European team mounted a brilliant come-from-behind victory on Sunday afternoon at Medinah, buoyed by the spirit of the late Seve Ballesteros, whose likeness pervaded the team's wardrobe and locker room.
"All the images of Seve around the clubhouse, the locker room and things like that, kept that spirit alive," said 2012 European captain Jose Maria Olazabal, himself a Ballesteros disciple. "I think these guys did it also for him."
Can't you just see it now? An American team infused by the spirit of Arnie playing fearless, swashbuckling, aggressive golf, just as he would've done? Tears streaming down the faces of every U.S. player Sunday evening as they understand this wasn't just a win for themselves or their country or even the greater good of what's in danger of becoming a one-sided competition, but for their collective hero?
It would be a win for the ages, as magical and mystical as Europe's triumph for their beloved Seve.
"It's going to be tough to do, but we are definitely going to draw inspiration from his spirits," explained U.S. captain Davis Love III. "We already had pictures of him in our locker room and team room, and we'll add a few more. He'll be with us forever."
Palmer's memory will undeniably serve as an underlying theme throughout this week. Less than 24 hours after his death on Sunday, officials were still contemplating exactly how he'll be honored, but at the very least, we can expect a video commemoration, a moment of silence, and pins worn by players featuring his logo.
Love was quick to point out that none of these honorariums will be specific to the U.S. team; rather, each squad will join together in sharing this tribute.
That's classy and sportsmanlike and exactly the way it should be, but it doesn't mean the two teams should be equally invigorated by Palmer's spirit.
Just as Ballesteros, who was an integral part -- the most integral part -- of bringing these two sides closer together competitively, served as greater inspiration posthumously for his counterparts than his opponents, so too should Palmer's death further motivate his own countrymen.
If Palmer could've given one last fiery speech to an American team, he wouldn't have implored them to try their best. He wouldn't have simply asked for some good swings and decent putts. He probably wouldn't have even settled for pleading for them to win.
No, the man who won twice as a captain and six times as a player, without ever losing, would gather them together, look each player in the eye, and declare his expectations for the week.
"I don't want them," he'd say, "to make a point."
If that doesn't inspire the Americans, nothing will.