The camaraderie before the carnage.

It’s that time again. For the next three days golf will take over the sporting universe, traditional etiquette will give way to frenzy, and hysteria among players and supporters will be understandably passed off as ‘passion’.

That’s right, the 2018 Ryder Cup between Europe and America is about to get underway.

Today’s final practice day played out as it should have done, as an appetiser for the real thing tomorrow.

The atmosphere bubbled beneath the surface. Chants of ‘Europe’ broke out occasionally, the odd American fan loudly declared love for Tiger Woods, and superior vantage points were highly populated if not rammed throughout.

Exchanges between European and American fans were more friendly than fierce, and the opening ceremony was the now customary show of dignified respect - belying the fact that captains Thomas Bjorn, Jim Furyk, and their teams will want nothing more than to batter the hell (metaphorically of course) out of each other for the next 72 hours.

Furyk even spoke of the ‘special bond’ between America and France, dating back to 1886 and the gift of the Statue of Liberty. Bjorn talked of his proudest moment in golf, and amongst it all guest host David Ginola tried to get the crowds going. The latter bordered on more cringeworthy then classy, but it didn’t really matter. By this point the stage had been set, the anticipation already building before tomorrow’s pairings were later announced.

Indeed, the practice days are always worth the watch. A chance to get closer to the action than normal, to appreciate the length and dimensions of the course, or in the case of the stunning Le Golf National, to assess the complexities of the water hazards.

Rory Mcllroy was vintage Rory Mcllroy. Flashes of brilliance plagued by erratic holes and missed practice putts. Jon Rahm’s tee shots delved between unbelievable and wayward, Ian Poulter embraced the crowds at every opportunity.

And obviously, large crowds (and entourages) followed Tiger’s every move, his steely focus rarely wavering.

In those respects, there was nothing new. When the pressure cooker ramps up the heat tomorrow, is when we’ll really learn who means business in Paris.

Although while the eyes of the World will be on Le Golf National, between now and Sunday the scene of bedlam and drama never to be forgotten, it’s fair to say in Paris itself attitudes are a little more laidback towards one of the biggest shows on earth.

Banners, advertisement, and promotion are at a premium. An enquiry to an information officer at my nearby train station hints the French are none too fussed at hosting the greatest team sporting event going.

“Le Golf National? Why are you going there?” she asked me.

“It’s not even really in Paris.”