Bryson DeChambeau is the most talked about player at the Ryder Cup

FARMINGDALE, N.Y. — It is just past 3 p.m. on Tuesday of Ryder Cup week, and the mostly-empty driving range at Bethpage State Park has transformed into a stage.

The spectacle is standing room only, taking place on the far left side of the range where a red-faced Bryson DeChambeau is launching balls into the Long Island sky in search of the magic number: 200 mph ball speed. There seems to be no obvious purpose to this quest beyond what DeChambeau is hyperaware of as he does it: the crowd around him wants to see it.

“Rory can’t do that, Bryson!” a fan calls out.

“I heard he’s nervous!” shouts another. 191.

This is what DeChambeau’s stump speech looks like, his every lash at the ball a type of creed he knows how to propagate. 193. With a giant screen left of the range showing exactly how far and fast each ball is going, there’s drama in every swing. 196. The congregation only gets louder. A “USA” chant begins. At one point, a smiling J.J. Spaun walks over to DeChambeau and joins in.

“Come on, show me something,” Spaun says. DeChambeau doesn’t respond. He just swings again. 198. 199.

The two-time U.S. Open winner isn’t just leaning into it all; he’s feeding off of it, determined to give them what they want. DeChambeau lets another one rip and the recoil nearly knocks him off his feet. 200 mph. 361-yard carry. Turning back toward the crowd, he flashes a wry smile and shrugs.

“Bryson, this is his arena,” Xander Schauffele said. “If he views himself as a gladiator golfer, this is as good as it gets.”

The Ryder Cup presents a unique scenario: DeChambeau’s persona — call it antics, histrionics, showmanship or an acquired taste — is tailor-made for this week. The sport’s most dramatic event presents a setting that allows DeChambeau to be the most unabashed version of himself, a combination of towering thespian and crowd-pleasing rock star. Could that translate…