Has The Apocalypse Arrived At Valhalla?

Is this what the apocalypse looks like? Is Valhalla, Louisville’s premier sports venue for the autumn, finally living up to its name?

I’m compelled to ask after observing the reaction of Louisville upon receiving the news that He Who Would Be The Tiger won’t be coming to the Ryder Cup.

Seems as if the guy who is legitimately recognized as the greatest golfer ever — but far from the greatest athlete ever as his adoring acolytes would believe — isn’t going to be playing any more golf for awhile.

The fellow won the US Open on a stess-fractured leg with a torn ACL. Impressive. (Not as much as hockey players who endure such trifling injuries to contest a meaningless mid-season game, but worthy nonetheless.) And now he’s going to take the rest of the year off, and continue his quest for world domination and to better Jack Nicklaus’s career grand slam record next season.

Well, good for him.

Not so good for Louisville. Which, frankly, is in a state of shock.

Okay it’s not like “The Happening” where folks are purposely driving their cars into light poles. But it is bad. Emails projecting the end of Greater Louisville as we know it are flying. Hizzoner For Life has been spotted heading to a hideaway bunker prepared for such an emergency. It is there he will consider how to right the ship of state.

Kids are being brought home from soccer camp to be counseled. Local taverns are full of `8-handicappers crying in their locally brewed drafts.

People are standing on corners with hand-painted signs offering “Ryder Cup Tickets For Sale.”

Woe is us.

Here’s what I say. Take a big deep breath. Put down the beer. Don’t throw that rope over that tree limb in the back yard just yet. Take a walk in the park.

The tickets are sold. The rooms are booked. This event is bigger than — yes — even Tiger Woods.

Repeat after me:

We shall survive.

We shall survive.

We shall survive.

Even at Valhalla, where mythological heroic dead went to feast.