Future Shock

It was on the tee of Pinched Nerve -- the 223-yard, par-3 17th at Whistling Straits -- that I received a jolt of clarity.

For 16 holes I had played with a knot in my stomach, both hands on the steering wheel and one foot on the brakes, unceasingly afraid of what a missed shot would bring. I'd felt enfeebled in the same way at Spyglass Hill in the 1970s, PGA West in the 1980s and Kiawah Island in the 1990s. Now, however, I was looking down at a distant and alarmingly small tabletop propped up by a sheer wall of railway ties rising 30 feet from a disheveled sand dune lapped by Lake Michigan white-caps. Because a three-story high fescue-covered mound blocked any view of the right side of the green, my mind was flooded with the throat-tightening thought that only a wind-piercing laser beam of a shot could possibly find the target. My mind was made up. This was the hardest course I'd ever played.

But don't just take it from an overmatched spray-hitter. The best players in the world who have played Whistling Straits think the same thing. When the PGA Championship starts next Thursday, there will be little dispute that it will be held on the most testing course ever to host a major.

At 7,514 yards, it's the longest. The par 72 will include three par 4s of 500 yards or longer, lumpy waves of long fescue rough and an endless sprinkling of more than 1,000 bunkers (the PGA of America has yet to decide if these sand traps will be played as hazards or "through the green," as was done at the 1991 Ryder Cup at Kiawah). The firm and humpy nature of the narrow, winding fairways will produce some bad bounces, while arbitrary clumps of rough and awkward stances in the tiny bunkers will often mete out punishment that won't fit the crime. The cliffhanging par 3s may be remembered as the most penal set ever, with the 221-yard seventh best described as a giant version of Troon's Postage Stamp, while the tiny finger of green suspended over oblivion on the 143-yard 12th will be home to the tightest pin position ever seen. Meanwhile, ground probably will be lost more often than gained on the four par 5s, of which the shortest is 569 yards.

"It's an amazing course -- so cool to look at, but just brutal to play," says Mark Calcavecchia, who has gotten in several rounds at the Straits, posting a best score of 72. "Sometimes all you see is a ledge, the lake and the sky -- and no bailout. It's going to be six-hour rounds and train wrecks all over the place. Anybody who can somehow get through 72 holes without making a double bogey or worse will probably win."

Predictably, the scouting reports have spread fear and loathing through the locker room. "There are so many holes out there with places where a guy could hit a quality shot and still end up losing a shot," says Jay Delsing, who like several players gathered reconnaissance the week of the PGA Tour stop in Milwaukee. "I mean, go left on 17 Sunday and your life will pass before your eyes. There's just too much luck. It's a beautiful place, but I ended up hating it."

Others are more temperate. "It was very playable," said Loren Roberts, the short but steady veteran who shot 71. "I could reach the holes. I would say that 75 is not that bad a score. It will probably identify the best player, but it will definitely identify the most patient player."

Doomsayers are estimating the winning score could approach or even exceed 293, the highest winning total in a major since the 1963 U.S. Open at The Country Club. That's farfetched, although according to Calcavecchia, "not if it blows."

All agree that heavy wind could turn the championship into a bloodbath. August is normally the calmest month in coastal Wisconsin, with winds rarely exceeding 10 to 15 mph. But gusts in the 40s are not unheard of, and the possibility the Straits will be whistling has PGA managing director of tournaments Kerry Haigh prepared to move up tees and set the easiest pins. Still, the specter of Pebble Beach in 1992, Carnoustie in 1999 or the recent fiasco at Shinnecock Hills looms. Wind will be the main variable determining whether the 2004 PGA is remembered as a classic championship or the Mistake by the Lake.