Two years ago I had a month-long trip to Groton, Connecticut. It was early fall, and expected to be easy weather. My lovely wife suggested I buy a travel case for my golf clubs. I like to tell people she suggested it so I’d stay out of bars and away from loose women, but she knows there’s no danger there. The purpose is to allow me to play golf. Period.
Groton has a wonderful municipal course, Shinnecosset. It is a Donald Ross design, first built in 1898. Ross came to the US in the early 1900s and finished it off, leaving his unmistakeable mark. It has wonderful fairways with deceptive approaches to the greens–those domed greens. Three new holes have been added after the city ceded some property to Pfizer for expansion. The company purchased a piece of property jutting out into the Thames Estuary for replacing the holes lost to construction. One evening I played and had the pleasure of seeing the sun begin to set across the river behind the 16th green–a golden hue washed the fairway, and I stood on the green for several minutes after holing out just to take in the view for as long as it lasted. It was a magical experience to play a course designed by a master and to be treated to the show as well.
I’ve become much more interested in golf architecture in the last five years or so. I began keeping track of the courses I’ve played, and the architects who designed them. I’ve played some by the old masters–Ross, Tillinghast, MacKenzie, Neville–and some of the better-known tour pros-turned-architects–Palmer, Player, Devlin, Burke, and Norman. I prefer the old guys.
Here in Texas we have the honor of several Tillinghast courses. San Antonio has three of them: two at Fort Sam Houston, and the San Antonio Country Club. He also designed Cedar Crest in Dallas, which was once a country club and hosted PGA events, including a PGA Championship in the ’30s.
What I like most about the old masters is their ability to see a course in the landscape, then construct it in their own style with little moving of earth. They let the ground determine the flow of the game, much like the old links courses in Scotland.
The Greg Norman and Gary Player courses have a similar feel, although earth-moving equipment is far more handy than it was early last century. Of the tour-pro architects, I prefer their styles. In particular, Player’s layouts are designed with every level of golfer in mind. He doesn’t take the Robert Trent Jones approach and simply construct very long tee boxes. In fact, the difference in length from the different tees isn’t extreme. What he does is design landing areas for different skill levels such that some help is provide for the duffer who strays off-line only slightly, but the long-knocker better hit where he’s supposed to. He also sets up approach shots to force you to think your way to the green and use a variety of clubs to do it. The same thing MacKenzie advocated and succeeded in doing at places like Pasatiempo and Augusta National.
I always play from the tips on a new course just to see what the architect wanted to accomplish. Usually he accomplished it at the expense of my score.
But I love it.