AUGUST 2 ― Watching the latter stages of Jimmy Walker’s victory in golf’s US PGA Championship on Sunday night set me off considering the differences between team and individual sports.

With Walker’s triumph making him the fourth different player to win the four different major titles this year – the first time that’s happened since 2011 ― my initial thought was that it’s probably easier to have a level playing field in individual pursuits.

In modern team games, the strongest clubs are generally those who command the highest levels of revenue, which they can use to buy the best players. That way, they can continue to win the trophies which in turn allow them to continue to earn the revenue to continue to buy the best players… and so on.

it’s a virtuous (or vicious, if you prefer a bit more equality) circle which is most strongly seen in football, where a handful of elite clubs have been the dominant forces in the European game for a number of years, using their self-perpetuating financial strength to make it much more difficult for newcomers to break through.

That kind of thing can’t happen in golf, of course. Although it’s true that, for example, Rory McIlroy can afford to pay the best coaches and the best caddies, his financial muscle hardly gives him the same kind of advantages enjoyed by footballing powerhouse equivalents such as Real Madrid and Bayern Munich.

Unlike top clubs in team sports, McIlroy cannot use his monetary advantages to keep on winning titles ― hence the fact that his slight downturn in form in the last couple of years has prevented him from winning any majors, and that the last eight biggest trophies have been claimed by seven different players (with only Jordan Spieth repeating).

That theory seems straightforward enough. But then you think of another leading individual sport, tennis, where exactly the opposite phenomena has been in evidence over recent years with three players ― Roger Federer, Rafa Nadal and Novak Djokovic ― totally dominating the honours boards.

Maybe, then, it’s not quite such a simple case of individual sports encouraging more diversity of champions, especially when you consider other habitually dominant solo stars such as Usain Bolt, Floyd Mayweather and, before his self-inflicted implosion, Tiger Woods.

Perhaps it’s actually just the case that there are no particularly outstanding golfers currently on the circuit, and the titles are being shared around because nobody is good enough to dominate.

And that, to me, is the weakness of individual sports as a spectacle: if a superb performer comes along, they are generally too good for anyone else to handle and consequently win nearly all the time; if there are no outstanding performers, the contest is more equal but the quality is lower.

In team sports, being individually brilliant can only take you so far, with the quality of your teammates and, just as importantly, group dynamics also playing a key role in determining your success.

The number of variables are, naturally, exponentially increased the more people are involved. It’s no coincidence, I don’t think, that the team sport in which it is most common for one player to dominate a game is basketball ― which has just five players per team, fewer than most other team games.

Being the best in golf or tennis is generally enough to make sure that you taste success more often than not. In team sports, however, that does not necessarily follow.

The leading wicket taker in test cricket history, for example, is Muttiah Muralitharan. But because his Sri Lankan teammates did not meet the same standards, he ended up losing nearly as many matches as he won over the course of his long career.

Similarly, Lionel Messi is probably the greatest footballer of all time. And even though he has won more than his fair share of honours, he has also lost plenty of important games as well ― just ask Argentinians, who are still waiting for the little master to win a major honour with his country (and he never will, unless he overturns his recent decision to retire from international football).

Conversely, by working together in an efficient group structure it can also be possible for teams to become the greater than the sum of their parts and enjoy achievements which should never be possible considering the overall individual talents of their players ― look no further than Leicester City for an example.

On the whole, the more dynamic, communal demands of team sports appeals to me more than the unavoidably individualistic nature of solo pursuits.

Sure, it can be inspiring to see one man or woman reaching deep inside and drawing upon all their reserves of determination and ability to achieve great things; but for me, it’s even more inspiring to see a group of people selflessly working together in pursuit of a common goal.

Perhaps that’s just a reflection of personal politics: I’ve always been a bit left-leaning, preferring cohesive social policies to free-market individualism. Is it true that you can guess which sports people like from the way they vote, and vice-versa? Let’s save that thought for another day…

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.