Johnny Miller

The case for easier courses

By Johnny Miller

Photos By Getty Images

July 2008

Illustration: Lou Beach

Building long, demanding courses strikes me as counterintuitive in this day and age. The number of rounds played has declined recently, and one reason golfers quit the game is because it's too difficult.

As a course designer, I try to reduce nightmare scenarios, such as forced carries over water, cavernous bunkers and greens that automatically repel approach shots. Rather than give golfers fewer options with these features, I choose to regulate difficulty by controlling the types of bounces a player gets. For example, I like to build mounds around the greens in such a way that errant iron shots are deflected onto the green with the "member's bounce." To toughen the course, you let the grass on the mounds grow so approach shots hang up instead of kicking onto the greens. Tricks like these are the key to easing difficulty and will entice golfers to stay in the game.

British Open

Sergio's putting net

When I saw Sergio Garcia using a belly putter at the 2007 British Open, I had a hunch he'd soon win his first major championship. He hasn't yet, but with the belly putter nearby, he's more likely to win one. It's not the belly putter per se; Sergio doesn't always putt well with it, and he used a conventional model to win the Players Championship in May. But the belly putter gives him a Plan B when one of his putters goes sour.

Having an option removes a burden from a player's mind and increases the hope of having that one great putting week you need to win. The British Open at Birkdale, where I won in 1976, might give Sergio that chance. It's a course for ball-strikers, and Sergio is better at getting to the greens than performing on them.

Of course, the longer Sergio goes without winning a major, the more pressure he puts on his putter regardless of the model. The belly putter might give hope, but it's not yip-proof.

Players

Winning isn't everything

The public's perception of a PGA Tour player's ability isn't shaped strictly by how many tournaments he has won. If the player has charisma, is liked by the media and contends often in major championships, he can leave an impression that is greater than what the record books say.

A good example is Tom Lehman, who is rightly considered one of the best players of the past 15 years. Lehman has been highly visible in the big events, finishing in the top six in majors an incredible 10 times. He has won a British Open, played on three Ryder Cup teams and captained another, and I'm sure the average fan perceives Lehman as being a lock for the Hall of Fame. With that, I'm constantly amazed by the fact that Lehman has won only five times on the PGA Tour, whereas David Toms, who most view as comparable, has won 12 times.

Lehman is a player (John Daly is another) whose game is so dynamic, you assume he has won more than he has, and you're surprised to learn his trophy case isn't filled with silver.