Hunter Mahan put on a brave face as he fronted the post-mortem news conference, but there could be no hiding those red, swollen eyes.
He'd thought he'd already cried them out in the team locker room as his comrades tried to console him from a pain that captain Corey Pavin called "very fresh, very raw."
But there were more tears to shed for a man haunted, if only in his own mind, by the soul-shattering belief that he'd just lost the Ryder Cup for his country.
"I'm just proud to be a part of this team," Mahan said, looking down the podium at his teammates.
"It's a close team, and ..."
And then he choked up.
This time there were no sunglasses to hide behind, as there were on the 17th green an hour or so before, when Mahan felt the apple stick in his throat against U.S. Open champion Graeme McDowell, meekly surrendering a hole he needed to win.
Losing the anchor match of an unforgettable Ryder Cup — a 14.5-13.5 defeat that gave Europe back the cup the Americans had won so memorably in the bluegrass of Kentucky two years ago — had clearly taken its toll.
Phil Mickelson's many things to many people, but at that moment, when Mahan most needed one, he was simply a friend.
Mickelson reached over and took the microphone and, in a classy, compassionate move, said that responsibility for the American failure at Celtic Manor — by the slimmest of margins — belonged to all, not one.
"We could look anywhere throughout those 28 points for that half a point," Mickelson said.
"Every one of us can look back on a match and say that this could have been the deciding factor.
"This is my eighth Ryder Cup, and I want to try to be a leader, and the best way to lead is through play.
"And when I didn't win any of my first three points, I felt more disappointment that I've ever felt."
Mickelson was right. The blame for this heartbreaking loss — which gave Europe the Ryder Cup for the sixth time in eight matches — lay with many.
Mickelson and Dustin Johnson went pointless until the singles, when both won handsomely, but where was that form during the team matches?
Even Butch Harmon, who coaches both players, admitted that they "didn't look like they were into it, even though they were."
Rickie Fowler played magnificently on Monday to scratch a half point out of his singles match against Edoardo Molinari — he birdied the final four holes to halve the match — but what about his brain-freeze when paired with Jim Furyk in foursomes?
Fowler cluelessly played a ball out of his pocket instead of digging Furyk's tee shot out of the mud and was forced to concede the hole in a match which was ultimately halved.
And what of Stewart Cink three-putting for par on the driveable 15th then missing a short birdie putt on the next hole on Monday, letting Rory McIlroy steal an undeserved half point for Europe? Or Jim Furyk, the FedEx Cup champion, getting the lowest point total of any American with only a half point from three matches?
To say nothing of Pavin sending out his bravehearts to play in effeminate shades of lavender and baby blue. Are they supposed to be warriors or interior decorators?
In a sense, however, maybe losing painfully like this might be just what the Americans needed.
The rub on the Ryder Cup has always been that it means much more to the Europeans. That the U.S. team is made up of talented but spoiled multimillionaires who agree to play essentially for free only because they don't want to be seen as unpatriotic. Men who wear their country's flag without emotional attachment.
But they sure seemed emotional on Monday after barely falling short of an epic comeback win.
Two of the team leaders, Steve Stricker — who led off with an inspiring victory against Europe's best player, Lee Westwood — and Cink joined Mickelson and Pavin in deflecting blame from Mahan.
"You hate to see Hunter go through what he's going through, because it really shouldn't have come down to that," Stricker said.
"But unfortunately, it did. We are taking this all as a team as a loss. We are trying to help Hunter along here in this situation. But a tough deal for him."
Cink was even more expressive, saying that very few players were courageous enough to take on the responsibility of the anchor match.
"If you go up-and-down the line of the Tour players in Europe and the U.S. and asked them if you would like to be the last guy to decide the Ryder Cup, probably less than half would say they would like to be that guy and probably less than ten percent of them would mean it," Cink said.
The message from the Americans was clear: the Ryder Cup matters to them.
"It's always been my favorite event," said Furyk.
"Rarely have I ever been as happy after winning; I've never cried after losing other than at a Ryder Cup. We know what it means to us. I'm glad maybe finally you've all figured it out."
He shot a quick glance toward Mahan.
"And I'm sorry it's in this way."
