Judging golf courses as “classic” has become a bit of a fireside hobby. It is a marketing tool for resorts and daily fee courses around the world, so there is often some propagandizing that goes along with the effort. Golf Digest and Golf Magazine often publish articles citing the Top 100, Top 25, or Top Courses You Can Play. They?re tedious, in my view, and serve primarily to boost advertising revenue.
In The Classic Golf Course, Trevor Ledger puts in his perspective: history, harmony, and location. Of the three, I would substitute course strategy for location.
As an example of location, Ledger cites the Old Course at St. Andrews.
Take St Andrews Old Course for example; that exact layout could be reproduced anywhere in the world if enough money and expertise were available but would it be as popular? Would it be as ‘good’ a golf course? Would it be a new ‘Mecca’? Nay, nay and thrice nay. The replica would not have the Eden Estuary to provide the scenic backdrop and coastal weather systems.
I agree that the location in this instance adds something, but that single attribute is completely overshadowed by his two other parameters. In fact, it is more closely aligned with harmony, as location could be any shoreline locale that offered similar aesthetics. It is classic partly due to the harmony with existing terrain.
History is essential. A course must stand up to play over decades, showing a challenging and different face with changing conditions and players. I?ve played Pasatiempo in Santa Cruz, California, recently, and can agree with Ledger and Tom Doak on many points regarding this Alister MacKenzie design:
Mackenzie had intimate knowledge of the ground at Pasatiempo in California, loving it so much that he built his last home there in 1932 and his ashes were spread across it in 1934. Doak himself is refreshing in his admission of awe at the subtlety that Mackenzie employed, finishing his review with: “True to Mackenzie form, it plays much longer than the 6,400 yards on the scorecard; I wish I knew how he managed to do that.”
It plays long because MacKenzie understood the terrain he built the course on, and used it to “lengthen” the course. One example is the third hole, a par 3. It is 217 yards long, all uphill. You must hit the green or the rough around it, else you find your ball rolling back down the approach about 30 yards. The left front of the green has a bunker, so a high fade is in danger of landing in sand. It all seems so logically simple, yet required solid understanding of local wind and rain patterns to build.
That, to me, highlights what is classic. Pasatiempo, Augusta National, Pinehurst #2, the Old Course, and Pebble Beach all have endured. But that endurance requires ability to change. Each was considered a work in progress for years. Augusta National still is. That is based not on changes necessary for golf, but changes necessary for Tour golf.
Classic courses all challenge the golfer with different shots. Nothing is more tedious than playing a course with a driver and a sand wedge all the way around. This is emphasized in many newer courses on the par 3 holes. Most new courses have four, five, or six sets of tee boxes to accommodate golfers of all skill levels. But four par-3s on any given course will all measure about the same distance from the back tees?something close to 200 yards. Every one. On a calm day, they all require the same club off the tee.
My home course is far from being a classic, but the architecture certainly has the potential. We have several risk-reward holes, some par-5s that can be reached in two (with out of bounds and other trouble as risk), and a variety of par-4s. If played down the fairway, as designed, it can yield some low scores. Go at it from the wrong direction, double bogies ensue. But even so, there are a few clubs in my bag that never come into play unless I do something stupid.
Golf is a mental game above all. There are certainly physical skills involved, but the mental is overpowering. A classic course is one where you are challenged to keep your mind focused on the shot at hand. A classic course offers distractions in the form of scenery, predominant winds, deceptive slopes, and optical illusions. It offers some risk and reward options. It must challenge your mind, but be a pleasure to play even when your score isn?t as good as it might be. History plays a big role in that aspect. When I played Pebble Beach, I shot 103. But I enjoyed every one of those strokes. I insisted on playing across the cliffs on #8, and put two balls in the ocean. But it was something that I had to do for myself?make it across to the green like Nicklaus or Palmer.
Shinnecossett in Groton, Connecticut, is a classic. It isn?t well-known, but it is still a classic. Donald Ross designed it, which gives it instant credibility. But is has been in operation for more than a century. And it offers a challenge along with scenery. It is typical Ross, with domed greens, hidden bunkers, and false fronts. Its holes are varied, yet all come together as a whole. It isn?t long, but can play that way if you stray.
This appreciation and knowledge of the bare canvas from which a golf course develops is seemingly passed on to the golfer who plays it. Perhaps this is that indefinable ‘something’ which marks a course as a classic, the subconscious knowledge that the course is at one with the land whence it came.
A course that flows gently through the landscape while providing a full range of challenges is the goal of every quality architect.
