Required Reading: Finally! Golf Blogging!

From the Wall Street Journal, “Volunteering for Torment” by John Paul Newport It’s been a while since I’ve indulged in some golf blogging. Please forgive me for surrendering to temptation. Besides, it’s not like anything interesting is happening in the world like a war breaking out or a major politician being enmeshed in scandal. In his weekly golf column, the excellent Newport takes a look at why golfers love exceedingly difficult courses:

The major tournaments this year seem to be having an identity crisis. The U.S. Open at Torrey Pines in June, with lots of roar-inducing weekend birdies and eagles, felt more like a Masters. The Masters in April lacked its usual magic and came across more like a typical PGA Championship, while this week’s PGA, at Oakland Hills outside Detroit, is shaping up more like a U.S. Open. The rough is unrelentingly thick, the greens are perfidious and the winning score may well be over par. The members at Oakland Hills love it. When Ben Hogan, after winning the U.S. Open there in 1951, called the course a monster, they proudly embraced the label. After all, famed architect Robert Trent Jones Sr. had been engaged before that Open specifically to render the course as hard as possible… Why make it so difficult? For some clubs, like Oakland Hills and Oakmont, near Pittsburgh, which hosted last year’s U.S. Open, you might as well ask why mow the grass. Tweaking their courses to be as treacherous as possible is their reason for being. For them, difficulty is the point of the game.

Newport’s correct only up to a certain point. It is true that many clubs do take a perverse pride in making their courses unplayable. This strange phenomenon affects not only world class courses like Oakland Hills and Oakmont, but clubs that have as much a chance of hosting a professional golf tournament as I have of enjoying a special evening with Angelina Jolie (not that I would be interested in such a thing, being a married man). The increasing difficulty of golf courses is actually a scourge that has gravely damaged the sport. Golf architects have proven increasingly skilled at convincing their clients that their courses should be a “test of golf.” Guided by this strange philosophy, golf courses are constructed or renovated so they will provide a more ample test to Tiger Woods if he should happen to show up for a stray round rather than to fit the skills of the people who actually play them. Why does this matter? By making golf courses overly difficult for the typical golfers who play them, golf architects have made the game less fun. In spite of the typical golf architect’s blarney, a person plays golf for enjoyment, not to see how his game compares to Phil Mickelson’s. You can see the effect of the architects’ efforts with the following incredible fact – since Tiger Woods’ ascendancy in 1998, the amount of golf being played has actually diminished. This decline has also happened while retiring baby boomers should be taking up golf. Instead, the increasing difficulty of an already very difficult game has chased the blue-hairs to the canasta table. The fact is, the game of golf was plenty hard before the golf architecture community decided it had to get harder. There are some contrarian golf architects like Tom Doak, Gil Hanse and Mike DeVries for whom fun is not a dirty word. But most practicing golf architects hail from an opposite school. On the typical renovation or so-called restoration of an existing course, the architect will make all of the 18 holes more difficult. In doing so, they’re answering a complaint that no one had. I’ve never been around a golf club where the membership expressed a consensus that the game and their course were just too darn easy. There is of course room in the golf world for championship tests like Oakland Hills and Oakmont. It’s worth noting, though, that those clubs have memberships that can really play. In other words, their memberships can take the “championship test” and not fail it miserably. But such golf communities are extreme anomalies. One would think golf architects that design courses that inflict misery on the people who pay for their work would face scant demand for their services. Unfortunately, the golf world has bought the “test of golf” standard in its entirety, much to the game’s great and continuing detriment.

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