“I’d sort of heard the team room wasn’t great,” Bradley said, “but, head and shoulders, this was better than any team of mine I’ve been in, and I can’t imagine a better one. These guys are all legit friends. They’re not like PGA Tour friends; they’re going-on-vacation-for-a-week-next-week-type friends. Their wives are all friends. The caddies are all friends. The coaches are all friends. There’s two, three, four layers of this. I was telling my wife every day – I just couldn’t believe it. It shocked me. These guys really care for each other.”

Though Furyk told him to focus exclusively on being a player, that he could fill him in with captaincy notes afterward, Bradley couldn’t help but peek behind the curtain. How Furyk and his staff communicated to players weeks ahead of time about possible pairings. How little touches in the team room served as inspiration. How fast decisions needed to be made, and how delicately some messages needed to be delivered, and how players needed to lead as much with clutch putts as rousing speeches.

“I think it was an important week for him to be a part of this team and see,” said Bradley’s caddie, Scott Vail. “He came in with a different perspective, thinking like a captain, how things are done, all these little details that captains have to think about. It was important for him to be here.”

But Bradley wasn’t merely serving in a ceremonial role. He was used in the opening session, draining six putts longer than 10 feet, including a match-clincher on the last hole, to win his fourball match and give the Americans their first Day 1 sweep since 2000. Though he and partner Wyndham Clark lost Saturday morning, Bradley still ranked, statistically, as the second-best American through four sessions. And so, needing to frontload the singles lineup to thwart any hopes of a miraculous International comeback, Furyk slid Bradley into the sixth spot in the lineup – a possible match-clincher, if his strategy worked. On Sunday, Bradley faced a formidable opponent: Si Woo Kim, the home team’s best player who had ignited Royal Montreal with clutch putting and raucous celebrations.

Over the years, Bradley – an anxious personality with nervy on-course tics – has learned how to manage his emotions in singles play, consciously slowing himself down to avoid expending too much energy. But this was unlike any other Sunday morning in his career.

“I felt like I could throw up,” Bradley said. “I can’t remember ever feeling like that. I was, like, really uncomfortable – properly.”

It was an amazing admission: Here was a player who has won a major, who has competed on teams before, who has been in plenty of big spots in his career, on the verge of hurling in the U.S. team room. The outcome seemingly wasn’t in doubt – the Americans were ahead by four, and they were 10-0 historically when leading heading into singles – and yet Bradley still felt overwhelmed.

“It was just really heavy,” he said. “It was a really heavy morning. It was heavy all week, but this morning I woke up and just, like, felt I had electricity going through my body.”

Bradley played like it, too. He carded six birdies and was assured of at least a half-point when he reached the 16^th tee. By that time, it was a mere formality that the U.S. would win its 10^th consecutive title; it was simply a matter of who (and where) the cup would be clinched.

After the 3-foot miss on 16 – coupled with Patrick Cantlay’s close-out up ahead – Bradley became keenly aware of where the overall match stood.

“One more point, Keegan!” a fan yelled from the hospitality tent behind 17.

But with another chance to secure the cup, and his teammates ready to celebrate, Bradley couldn’t get his 8-footer to drop, either.

All of a sudden he was just 1 up – and rudely reminded that he was competing on foreign soil. As he prepared to tee off on the 18^th hole, with a hazard all down the left side, a fan hounded him: “Hit in the water!” Others mockingly chanted, “Keeeeeegaaannnnn.” But Bradley was unfazed, roping a 300-yard drive into the neck of the narrow fairway and setting up a stress-free par. When Kim’s putt to tie dove left, Bradley had secured the final point necessary.

“It’s never easy, is it?” Bradley said, his eyes welling with emotion.

Finally, for a change, he was the focal point. He was asked how satisfying it was to wait 10 years for a victory. He was asked about the differences in team chemistry. He was asked, after seeing the demands up-close, if he could conceivably be a playing captain next year.

“I told him when he got picked for this team that you need to reevaluate your goals for next year,” said assistant captain Brandt Snedeker, who has already been tabbed by Bradley for a supporting role next year at Bethpage. “You don’t need to be a captain – you need to be a player, because he brings that kind of fire to a team. He loves the competition. We had 12 unbelievable players this week, and he was right in the middle of them. I would never bet against that guy, ever.”

Sure, Bradley found the scenario unlikely, but he’d never rule it out; after all, his unique golfing journey – from a tiny ski town in Vermont, from second-rate St. John’s, from the professional abyss – would have been impossible if not for an insatiable desire or unassailable self-belief.

“But I’m going to push that down the road,” he said.

For now, there was too much to celebrate with his teammates – and too much left to savor. His storybook summer complete, Bradley hugged his family, his friends, his assistants. Then, amid the mob on 18, he found his captain and pulled him close.

“Thank you so much for giving me this.”

Not just a pick. His purpose.