For a man who went to college in Arizona, has a luxurious pad there in Scottsdale and travels the world with an American girlfriend, Paul Casey doesn’t care much for the United States. The food could be better, their driving sucks, and as for the golfers, well, let’s just say it was a pleasure to beat them in this year’s Ryder Cup. He is happy to spend his winters there for as long as his game benefits, but had he to choose between its parched landscape and the Surrey setting he calls home, the decision would be what’s known as a no-brainer.

Casey didn’t sink the winning putt at Oakland Hills in September, but the point he secured with fellow rookie David Howell, just as the hosts were fighting back, was pivotal to the outcome. It was the first time in 25 years that a pair of Europeans had won a match together on debut.

In the early hours of the Monday after Europe’s win, as he and his teammates danced on the bar of an Irish pub in deepest Detroit, they were celebrating not just a record-breaking victory but a record-breaking defeat for the US. “Oh, we properly hate them,” he says. “We wanted to beat them as badly as possible.”

At the World Cup in Seville this week, less than two months after representing his continent, Casey will be playing for his country. As the world’s highest-ranked Englishman when the teams were announced in September, he qualified automatically to fly the nation’s flag in what is one of the year’s four World Golf Championship events. Partnered by Luke Donald, his job will be to overcome 23 other nations, including the US, but a victory this time will not mean nearly so much as that historic head-to-head in Michigan.

It was an exhausting affair, not just about winning, but about pride. Casey says that with all the pressure, the whooping and hollering, and the expectation among US players and fans, he didn’t enjoy himself until it was all over. He knew he wasn’t the only one wound up by the atmosphere when his American girlfriend, Jocelyn, stood up in the European team room to offer a confession. “She basically said, ‘We’re just a bunch of uncultured idiots, aren’t we?’ We just looked at her and went, ‘Yeah, that’s what we were thinking’.

“Americans can be bloody annoying. The crowd were really behind them at the Ryder Cup, and then, once we’ve won the thing, they hang around and say, ‘You know what, we really like you Europeans. We wanted you to win all week’. And I’m thinking, ‘No you didn’t. Don’t try and tag on to the winning team. Two hours ago you were chanting U-S-A, and now you love us.’ Sometimes they infuriate me. In Scottsdale, it’s not so bad, because the people there have travelled, and you can have civilised conversations with them, but the vast majority of Americans simply don’t know what’s going on. They have no concept of the UK, for instance.”

Casey, 27, has no plans to play full-time in the US. He says he has more fun on the European Tour, and promises never to forget the invites it gave him when he turned professional. He was irritated recently when Ryan Moore, the US Amateur champion, suggested in an interview that the Nationwide Tour was the second-best in the world. “Excuse me? I don’t see Ernie Els and Vijay Singh playing on the Nationwide Tour. You just got your arse kicked 18Å-9Å and you can’t even mention the European Tour? Stuff like that really boils everyone’s blood.”

As does Tom Lehman, whose behaviour was branded “disgusting” by Sam Torrance after the battle of Brookline in 1999. Surprisingly, he has been appointed America’s captain for the K Club in 2006. “That will go down well in Europe,” says Casey with more than a hint of sarcasm. “If you talk to people such as Monty (Colin Montgomerie), Tom Lehman isn’t high up there on the Christmas card list. It will be quite interesting, especially if our captain is one of the guys who were at Brookline. It’s not a sensible appointment. It could spark something up.”

The Americans’ renowned reluctance to travel also rubs Casey up the wrong way. So many of them have rejected the opportunity to play in Seville that Bob Tway, 56th in the world, will partner Scott Verplank, ranked 22nd.

“I can understand why Tiger and guys like that might not want to do it, but when they start going down as low as that . . . I mean, it’s the World Cup. I’ve been to Japan, Mexico, in fact I’d go anywhere to represent my country. Why wouldn’t you? But they’re like that, even with The Open. Come on, guys, it’s a major, one of the oldest events in the world. Get on the plane and get your arse over here.”

This is typical Casey: honest, forthright and reluctant to suffer fools. One of the “Britpack” of emerging golfers, he is a fast-living, fun-loving young man with the kind of confident swagger that has prompted comparisons with Tony Jacklin in his heyday. In the 1999 Walker Cup at Nairn, when he and Donald yielded four points for Great Britain & Ireland, a television microphone picked up his foursomes partner asking him which part of the green he would like him to aim for.

The response was not that of a golfer who is short of confidence. “Anywhere,” came the reply. “I’ll knock it in.”

Where Donald is quiet and cautious, Casey is chatty and adventurous. His coach, Peter Kostis, who has been a commentator and analyst on American television for 14 years, believes his player’s swing and personality are inseparable. “He has a need for speed,” Kostis says. “Whether it be with his clubhead, or the racing cars he drives, he likes to move quickly. He is a new-age player. His strength is his strength, and in five or six years that will be an absolute necessity in golf. He hits long, high, soft irons, drives the ball well, and, with a compact swing, hits the ball a bit like Tiger did when he was at his peak. He is the future of golf.”