(FORTUNE Magazine) – I don't know about you, but nothing makes me more tired than waiting. And waiting and waiting and waiting. It seems as if that's all I've been doing--until now.

No one is more excited about the Ryder Cup than I am. I'll get chills when the national anthems are played. My heart will pound, and my mouth will be dry before the first ball is hit. I'll be rooting like crazy inside for my guys--and please forgive me if there's an occasional display of emotion. It's okay. It's the Ryder Cup. It's what we've been waiting for all this time.

The longest year in golf is nearly over, thank goodness, and the matches are about to begin. But let's not forget that although this is 2002, we're playing the 2001 matches. They'll always be the 2001 matches. Furthermore, let's not forget why we've been waiting. The day that shook the world, Sept. 11, 2001, brought us to this point. And now we must move forward.

Like many people, I was traveling that day, at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. That night I walked around the golf course at the Broadmoor, and it was the most eerily quiet place I had ever been. The silence was broken by two Air Force jets flying overhead.

The next morning I was able to talk on the phone with the players, officials from the PGA of America, PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem, and European captain Sam Torrance. I also called a couple of golf's elder statesmen to ask what they thought we should do. Everyone's initial reaction was that we should go ahead and play, not disrupt our lives. One argument was that the matches would bring the country together. That sounds good, but the country had more important things to worry about. We think we're some kind of big deal most of the time, but we're not. I don't think Osama bin Laden was in his cave watching the Golf Channel.

Others wanted to cancel. The President was telling us to go on with our everyday lives, but our everyday lives called for international travel in two weeks. What if a full-scale war broke out? What if another attack occurred, and the skies were shut down again?

After taking a couple of days to examine the situation, we saw the severity of it. Thousands of lives had been lost. On the Saturday night following the attacks, we were informed of the decision to delay the matches. My wife, Sarah, and I looked at each other, feeling relieved. Were we disappointed? Maybe a little bit. We had prepared for the Ryder Cup for so long. But this tragedy was too big for any of us to handle. The players were relieved as well.

At a San Antonio tournament two weeks later, I wasn't prepared for what they had in store. We play with Presidents and captains of industry, and not much can impress us or stir our blood. Then four jets flew overhead; a 100-voice choir sang, backed by the Air Force band; and there were 5,000 spectators, all waving flags. I became emotional just walking in. I've never been prouder to have been part of something, to be friends with people like Jesper Parnevik, Hal Sutton, and David Toms, all of whom were there. As a tour, we gave $1 million to the families of the victims.

Much has been written saying that perhaps we should have a different team for this year's matches, that we should field the best team possible. But I believe no one should be punished because of an attack on our country. From the beginning, Sam Torrance and I agreed that we wouldn't change anything--from uniforms to players--about our teams over the coming year. This is and always will be the 2001 team.

Some wonder whether the rivalry will be as intense or the fans as rabid. I think once the first peg goes in the ground, the game will be on as usual. The fans will support their own team as strongly as they always have.

Watching from home, you won't see an ounce of difference. That's the way it should be. I can't wait.