Bethpage '09: The Real Legacy

Much of the talk about the true significance of holding a U.S. Open at a public golf course is not exactly on point. "The People's Open" sounds great, but simply holding the championship at a municipally operated -- in this case, Bethpage is state run -- venue isn't likely to trigger greater rates of golf participation. Nor does it herald an era when golf will be more democratic, more demographically diverse, or appealing to more participants.

Bethpage is but a piece of a larger puzzle; a step in a long progression. It remains to be seen what route the USGA -- golf's strongest governing body -- does in the wake of staging two consecutive Opens at public courses.

Here's the rotation for the next several years:

            2010: Pebble Beach

            2011: Congressional

            2012: Olympic

            2013: Merion

            2014: Pinehurst

            2015: Chambers Bay

On the face of it, the lineup reads like the traditional informal rotation with the usual heavy representation of private country clubs in the Northeast or across the country's northern tier. There are two exceptions: Merion and Chambers Bay. Merion is a traditional venue but hasn't hosted a U.S. Open since 1981, when it was the site of its fourth national championship. The USGA's move away and return has much to do with the evolution in equipment and the recent course lengthening to 6,846 yards. More interesting a choice (for the tradition-minded USGA) is Chambers Bay, a design of recent vintage by Robert Trent Jones II.

Not only is it a new venue -- it will host its first USGA championship, the U.S. Amateur, next year -- it's also somewhat off the well-worn USGA path. Located on Puget Sound, near Tacoma, Wash., it's about an hour south of Seattle and it's open to public play.

With the staging of a second Open at Bethpage and two consecutive on public courses, the USGA will likely know how successful these were, measured by a matrix of attendance, logistics, ability to attract and host corporate sponsors and, of course, the merits of the course itself. The USGA may have been bold in deciding to take the Open to Bethpage in 2002, but the genie is out of the bottle. And any move away from public venues -- and, in fact, any evolution that doesn't increasingly take the organization's championships to new venues over the next 15 years -- will be seen as retrenchment. Or admission that the move to venues like Bethpage, Torrey Pines and Chambers Bay was, ultimately, a step in the wrong direction.

Why is it necessarily better to be playing the national championship on these courses than a pure rotation of the best private courses (Oakmont, Olympic, Southern Hills, Winged Foot and Shinnecock) with a few resort courses (Pebble Beach and Pinehurst) sprinkled in?

Our thinking goes something like this. Tiger Woods' great gift to golf -- among the many -- is that the Woods Era would welcome more people to the game, participation would increase, and the galleries, once made up disproportionately of those who played golf at private clubs, would come to look more like the fan bases who attend football, baseball and basketball games.

With Tiger (probably) slightly more than midway through his career, not all of that has happened, particularly on the participation front. On the other hand, the boisterous galleries of Bethpage (and I don't mean the drunks among them) were a reminder that new galleries are there and that they don't sound and act like the galleries of yore. Some may judge it better, some may judge it worse, it is certainly different. Daring to evolve in that direction will be one of the great challenges the USGA faces in the next 10 to 20 years. -- Robert Lohrer            

Phil, the Guy Who Has Everything, Might Trade Most All of It...

Phil the Thrill, Phil the Fashionista, Phil the-guy-who-has-everything. Well, he might just trade most all of it for his wife's good health. Amy Mickelson, Phil's constant companion (sorry, Bones) for the duration of his professional career, has been diagnosed with breast cancer, the family announced late last week.

In support of Amy, PGA Tour golfers playing Saturday at Colonial, and their wives, are planning to wear pink. Those attending are being encouraged to wear pink. Pinkalicious, I say. Pinknation. Pinkyouverymuch.

Having a five-year-old daughter, I have learned firsthand the transcendent power of pink. As a consciousness-raising statement for preventative health care for women and the ongoing battle against breast cancer, pink is a good start.

In our celebrity-driven, celebrity-obsessed age, causes tend to acquire faces. The higher-profile the celebrity, the more money/attention/research inures to the cause. I'm guessing Amy Mickelson probably didn't see herself as the face for such noble work, but years walking and basking in reflected limelight may have prepared her well for what's ahead.

Whether you like him or not -- and knowledgeable golf fans seem to fall into one of the two camps -- Phil has been more than a great golfer. He's been a very, very good sportsman and great entertainment. Whether he's winning or six back, Phil always goes for it, just the way Arnold always did. Except, of course, when he's off-loading his driver and doubling down on wedges.

In any case, he's suspended his Tour schedule indefinitely as his wife embarks on a battle -- fighting cancer -- that too many of us are familiar with, whether it's through immediate family or friends. Fans will miss Phil; the Tour will miss Amy.

It so happens I read Bob Verdi's excellent interview with Phil the evening before I read news reports of Amy's diagnosis. As Phil talked about some of his obscure birthday gifts -- meteorites and dinosaur heads -- it was hard to not come to the conclusion -- even Phil did -- that these were the trappings of a man who indeed has all the material pleasures money can buy, an individual who truly enjoys the wages he's earned, even if the pleasure -- a la Rosebud -- is as simple as driving 30 minutes for an In-N-Out Burger at lunch.

The Wilhelmina 7, Suddenly Stylish on Sunday

It's Sunday morning and I'm thinking LPGA. I'm not sure why but maybe it has to do with a few familiar names on the leaderboard heading into the final round of the final Corning Classic.

Not far off the lead of -17 (shared by Mika Miyazato and Soo-Yun Kang) are Minea Blomqvist (-15), Sandra Gal and Mikaela Parmlid (both at -14).

If the leaders should falter, all three would have a shot to win. This being the middle of Memorial Day weekend, I'm going to try to avoid checking the LPGA's real-time scoring and go for the delayed late-night telecast on The Golf Channel.

But to the reason why I'm interested in the three: They are members of the Wilhelmina 7, the group of seven golfers organized in 2008 and represented by the Wilhelmina modeling agency. Moving into its second season, the seven golfers have had mixed results, with most securing their playing status but rarely threatening the very top of the leaderboard.

Commercially, it's been something of a mixed bag, as well. Created by Wilhelmina in hopes that the idea of sponsoring seven attractive, successful female golfers would offer sponsors better visibility and  traction, it seemed a superb idea but has met with unfortunate timing. There have been a few sponsorships that otherwise wouldn't have come the way of the golfers, which include Anna Grzebien, Kim Hall and Joanna Head. (Earlier this year, Paige Mackenzie replaced Stacy Prammanasudh as the seventh member.) Mostly, however, the idea has not quite broken through the clutter of opportunities available to brand marketers.

The Book on High Bridge Hills, the Unabridged Anniversary Edition

High Bridge Hills Golf Club in western New Jersey is unheralded but likely not underrated, under-appreciated but probably not under-subscribed. I say this as someone with quick access to the Internet who has been to the golf club exactly twice.

My first observation: Fun track.

My first question: Who knew?

We played High Bridge Hills the last week in April. For golfers who live west of New York City or are willing to travel an hour twenty west of the Big Apple, it offers an outstanding value with season rates between $51 (after 1 p.m. weekdays) and $79 (before 1 p.m. weekends), and off-peak discounts for local residents, which is understandable as the course is owned by the Borough of High Bridge. Designed by Mark A. Mungeam of Mungeam and Cornish (yes, that's renowned golf course architect Geoffrey Cornish), High Bridge Hills opened in midsummer of 1999 so, owing partly to our enthusiasm for milestones, a timely report makes all the more sense as High Bridge Hills marks a significant anniversary this summer.

Ceremony aside, High Bridge Hills (HBH) is routed over the treeless slopes, hills and moderate valleys of an old farm. Aside from the imposing red barn sited on the highpoint of the property, the course's distinctive visual flavor -- and much of its challenge -- resides in the unobstructed windswept terrain, the hillsides, valleys and swales, and, most significantly, the tall fescue grass that grows untended and gnarly, blowing in the wind from spring through summer. These tall grasses, which are essentially the secondary rough, constitute a visually intimidating golf-ball-swallowing menace hazard for anyone not in control of his tee shot. "If you hit into it, don't count on finding yours," writes Kevin McKay, High Bridge's director of golf. "You may find others, but never yours."

With that said, I went anticipating a three-star experience because my best available bookshelf resource -- Golf Digest's Places to Play (2002 edition) -- had given it exactly that number. My expectations were more than met by the golf course. High Bridge is memorable and had me easily recalling all holes two weeks after playing it. HBH was challenging in the 20- to 25-mile-per-hour winds we played in but not preposterously difficult, although I'm mindful that the rough hadn't yet reached mid-season ferocity. Later, when I saw HBH listed among a New Jersey golf association's top 30 public courses in the state, I thought it belonged comfortably in that group.

Would I go back? Would I recommend it to friends? The short answer to both is yes. Aside from the course, HBH has a few key virtues, foremost among them accessibility. From New York City and the populous northeastern part of New Jersey, the club is three miles north of Interstate 78 (via Route No. 31 at exit 17) but once you're playing, you're fairly removed from reminders of modernization and encroaching suburbia, save for a few westerly vistas that include the scenic Spruce Run Reservoir and one immense example of Alan Greenspan's housing bubble suburban tract housing. If you happen to be close enough to consider HBH as a practice facility, it has a well-maintained grass range and a large practice putting green where, thankfully on a return weekday afternoon visit, I saw no sign discouraging chipping.

The other outstanding attribute of High Bridge Hills that distinguishes it from its peers is that it was built and is owned by the borough and, hence, is a muni. It's testament that very good things can get done under government auspices, although the story is more complicated than that simple observation. Frank Hannigan, the former USGA executive director, authored a 1999 Golf Digest story of how HBH came into existence over 10 years ago. The story is strong on explaining how the project was financed, but it also has a decidedly optimistic tone so as to share borough revenue projections without injecting a scintilla of  skepticism that should accompany any projection.