At a Golf Course
Designed for Randomness,
Expect the Unexpected
By Max Rego
If there’s one word to describe Royal St. George’s, it would be “unpredictable.” And that’s exactly the way it should be.
For the 15th time, golf’s oldest championship ventures to the quaint English town of Sandwich, home of the first English course to ever host the Open. One thing is for certain this week: a proper test of links precision and strategy awaits 156 of the world’s best.
“There’s nothing flat on this golf course. Everything bounces away.”
“Understand that you’re gonna get some good hops, some real bad hops, and just go on about your business.”
Those quotes, from Ernie Els and Tiger Woods, respectively, were said in 2003 about Royal St. George’s. While those two have captured five combined Claret Jugs, they still recognized the challenge that the southern English layout presented.
I have to admit to a bit of bias behind my love for St. George’s. Six summers ago, my family and I made the trek from London to Sandwich, eager to experience a day of golfing and hiking the Cliffs of Dover. I was 14 at the time, unaware that the day would mark the start of a love affair with links golf.
Throughout an afternoon stroll with my local caddie, John, a man who had certainly seen a thing or two during his lengthy tenure at the club, it truly didn’t matter what my score ended up being. All that mattered was enjoying a stroll through one of the most unique major championship venues.
Right off the bat that day, I have to say I was a little confused. Standing on the first tee, a player looks out into the horizon, toward the sea in the distance.
From that perspective, the first hole appears to be a run-of-the-mill, 450-yarder (from the back tees), bending slightly to the right. But thick rough awaits a tee shot with too much left to right action — and getting the ball past “the Kitchen,” a swale roughly 250 yards from the back tees, is of the utmost priority.
Three bunkers protect the putting surface at No. 1, with the typical wind direction pushing approach shots toward the smaller of the two bunkers guarding the left edge. Getting the ball in the hole in four strokes lends a sigh of relief, and this is a worthy start to a round at St. George’s.
Fast forward to the fifth, and a true taste of risk-reward greets you. For the pros, taking driver brings all sorts of bunkering and fescue into play down the left. Laying back to the right part of the short grass leaves a blind approach over mounds. Players will certainly take both approaches to No. 5 — a testament to how often decision making plays a role versus solely execution.
Learning with each shot, I realized how crucial it was to control your ball flight at St. George’s. No. 16, the shortest hole on the course, lays bare this particular challenge. If the pin sits in the back right section of the putting surface, the treacherous bunker that sunk Thomas Bjorn in 2003 is certainly in play. This is where it can get really tricky. The proper approach to that pin location should move from left to right, giving the player the best chance to get it close and leave No. 16 with a 2 on the card. But an excess of fade spin can send the ball careening down the slope on the right edge, eventually settling in the sand.
Then, there’s your classic links endeavor of avoiding pot bunkers at all costs. On the home hole, just finding grass is something to celebrate, as a trap down the left at nearly 250 yards and two more roughly 80 yards further up stare right back at you from the tee. Only once you choose the right club and receive a fortunate enough bounce to avoid the sand, can the focus turn to attacking the green complex.
I understand the pushback. Compared to other venues in the rota, St. George’s is not as glamorous or universally loved by players. It hasn’t been branded as the sort of brutal affair in the fashion that Carnoustie has been, and probably doesn’t have a hole to rival the iconic nature of the Postage Stamp.
But all those concerns aside, it feels sort of appropriate that this Open is in a place that embraces unpredictability. A bounce here, a bounce there, and someone from out of left field — in the mold of Ben Curtis or Darren Clarke — could find themselves lifting the Jug.
Golf, in its purest form, is a game of skill and precision. While that focus has so often gone to the wayside with the emphasis on power, a place like St. George’s encapsulates all the shot making that the sport is supposed to require. Bouncing 4-irons from 120 yards out; using putter from 100 feet short of the green; approach shots that have to deal with pot bunkers, runoffs and fescue — sometimes on the same hole, other times a variation of the three.
Even some modifications have been made to the course since 2011, in an ode to St. George’s history. Now, many of the bunkers closely resemble how they appeared during World War 2. How about that for a nod to the past?
After 2020 came and went without an Open, a course with this level of randomness might be exactly what we need.
Max Rego is a Florida native, and is entering his junior year at Duke. His Twitter account is @maxrego_.
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