24 tournament starts in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, Tiger Woods has won just twice, or 8% of the time he tees it up. That would be terrific for any other golfer on the planet, but for Woods it's downright awful. [h=3]Tiger vs. The Northeast[/h] View Graphics
Bear in mind that over his full career, Woods has won roughly 25% of his starts: That includes a scary 37% of his starts in the Midwest, nearly 30% in Florida and 26% on the West Coast. His apparent allergy to the Northeast isn't just surprising, it defies the law of averages.
This week, as Woods prepares for the U.S. Open at Merion Golf Club outside Philadelphia, you have to wonder if he's secretly dreading it. As a sometimes-wild bomber, he has always thrived on longer, more forgiving layouts whose greens he has essentially memorized after hundreds and hundreds of rounds.
But the classic courses in the Northeast, many of which date to the beginning of the 20th century, aren't forgiving, really: they're more like 7,000-yard brain teasers. Misses can be brutally penal and the subtle rolling greens can remain mysterious even to pros who have played them for decades.
"Courses like these, and especially Merion, need to be studied and thought out before you can succeed on them," said Gil Hanse, the acclaimed architect who is designing the Olympic golf course in Brazil and works 15 miles west of Merion. "They are full of subtlety and strategy that is not readily apparent to the golfer and it is only through deliberation and trial and error that their true identities are revealed."
Also worth noting: Woods's two wins up North—at Bethpage Black in 2002 and at the TPC Boston in 2006—came on courses that don't really fit the mold of Merion or the other tight, rolling, pre-war courses designed by the game's legends, including A.W. Tillinghast and Donald Ross.
Scotsman Hugh Wilson designed Merion's West Course, which opened in 1914 and has hosted more national championships than any other U.S. course. Laid out on a scant 118 acres, Merion isn't long—it measures just 6,996 yards. It has five par-fours of less than 370 yards.
But its deep bunkers are deadly. Missing the tight fairways is a terrible idea. There's no first cut and the rough is 4.5 inches. "We don't play that many events up in this area," Woods said Tuesday at his pre-tournament news conference. "I play a lot of...a ton of tournaments in California and Florida and that's where a lot of my wins are. The Northeast there aren't that many events. Done well in Ohio, I guess, but I guess that's more Midwest."
Woods never won at the Westchester Country Club outside of New York City, an occasional PGA Tour stop. "I thought Westchester was a quirky golf course with weird angles," he said. "I never got a really good feel for that golf course. I played there as an amateur in the Buick and didn't really do well and just really didn't suit my eye."
He spent a frustrating (for him) four days at Baltusrol in New Jersey at the 2005 PGA Championship, where he finished tied for fourth at two-under par. He missed the cut at the U.S. Open at Winged Foot Golf Club in 2006, shortly after his father had passed away. He finished tied for 17th at 10-over par at the U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills in 2004.
Woods was even something of weak link when the U.S. staged a thrilling, come-from-behind victory in the Ryder Cup at the Country Club in Brookline in 1999. He lost three of four matches there in team play.
"The courses up this way are the classics," said Douglas Smith, a noted architect based in Westchester. "You have to dial it down off the tee. You have to have 72 holes of strategy from the tee box out. A lot of these guys are 'bombs away' without much thought. That doesn't work up here."
Golf course architecture in the U.S. shifted dramatically after World War II. Before 1930 (few courses of consequence were built during the Great Depression) architects essentially draped their golf courses over the rolling, often wooded landscape. They cut only the trees they needed to, and used mules and horses to dig bunkers and craft green complexes leaving the subtle undulations that still cause golfers to snap their putters nearly a century later.
After the war, golf course designers discovered the bulldozer and other earth-moving machinery. They could level any ground, knock down stands of trees with little effort and produce greens that are challenging but not particularly quirky.
Those modern courses play right into Woods's wheelhouse, allowing him to use what Hank Haney, who coached Woods until 2010, said are his former student's two best skills. "Tiger can be a little wild but he knows where he can miss and still recover," Haney said. "A lot of old courses don't really give you a chance to recover. You hit a bad tee shot and you're done."
Considered a brilliant course tactician, Woods has shown an ability to adjust and sometimes excel on tighter, shorter courses by playing smarter. At Royal Liverpool in 2006, for instance, he largely left his driver in the bag.
Woods will need those smarts this week at Merion, where he won't be able to take advantage of his exceptional ability to memorize the undulations of greens. Haney said Woods remembers nearly every break every one of his putts has ever taken.: a trick of memory that has helped him win eight titles at Bay Hill in Florida and at Torrey Pines in La Jolla, Calif., seven at Firestone in Ohio, five at Cog Hill in Illinois and five also at Ohio's Muirfield.
By contrast, since the PGA Tour doesn't stop at the classic Northeast courses year after year, so Woods hasn't played their greens often enough to memorize every hump and slope. Woods played Merion for the first time last month.
"If you are only playing the course once every 10 years and only have two practice rounds to figure it out, that might be part of the problem," Hanse said. "Tiger has a magnificent repeat record at a number of courses where he has course knowledge and preparation down cold and that is one of his advantages being a very smart player."
Bear in mind that over his full career, Woods has won roughly 25% of his starts: That includes a scary 37% of his starts in the Midwest, nearly 30% in Florida and 26% on the West Coast. His apparent allergy to the Northeast isn't just surprising, it defies the law of averages.
This week, as Woods prepares for the U.S. Open at Merion Golf Club outside Philadelphia, you have to wonder if he's secretly dreading it. As a sometimes-wild bomber, he has always thrived on longer, more forgiving layouts whose greens he has essentially memorized after hundreds and hundreds of rounds.
But the classic courses in the Northeast, many of which date to the beginning of the 20th century, aren't forgiving, really: they're more like 7,000-yard brain teasers. Misses can be brutally penal and the subtle rolling greens can remain mysterious even to pros who have played them for decades.
"Courses like these, and especially Merion, need to be studied and thought out before you can succeed on them," said Gil Hanse, the acclaimed architect who is designing the Olympic golf course in Brazil and works 15 miles west of Merion. "They are full of subtlety and strategy that is not readily apparent to the golfer and it is only through deliberation and trial and error that their true identities are revealed."
Also worth noting: Woods's two wins up North—at Bethpage Black in 2002 and at the TPC Boston in 2006—came on courses that don't really fit the mold of Merion or the other tight, rolling, pre-war courses designed by the game's legends, including A.W. Tillinghast and Donald Ross.
Scotsman Hugh Wilson designed Merion's West Course, which opened in 1914 and has hosted more national championships than any other U.S. course. Laid out on a scant 118 acres, Merion isn't long—it measures just 6,996 yards. It has five par-fours of less than 370 yards.
But its deep bunkers are deadly. Missing the tight fairways is a terrible idea. There's no first cut and the rough is 4.5 inches. "We don't play that many events up in this area," Woods said Tuesday at his pre-tournament news conference. "I play a lot of...a ton of tournaments in California and Florida and that's where a lot of my wins are. The Northeast there aren't that many events. Done well in Ohio, I guess, but I guess that's more Midwest."
Woods never won at the Westchester Country Club outside of New York City, an occasional PGA Tour stop. "I thought Westchester was a quirky golf course with weird angles," he said. "I never got a really good feel for that golf course. I played there as an amateur in the Buick and didn't really do well and just really didn't suit my eye."
He spent a frustrating (for him) four days at Baltusrol in New Jersey at the 2005 PGA Championship, where he finished tied for fourth at two-under par. He missed the cut at the U.S. Open at Winged Foot Golf Club in 2006, shortly after his father had passed away. He finished tied for 17th at 10-over par at the U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills in 2004.
Woods was even something of weak link when the U.S. staged a thrilling, come-from-behind victory in the Ryder Cup at the Country Club in Brookline in 1999. He lost three of four matches there in team play.
"The courses up this way are the classics," said Douglas Smith, a noted architect based in Westchester. "You have to dial it down off the tee. You have to have 72 holes of strategy from the tee box out. A lot of these guys are 'bombs away' without much thought. That doesn't work up here."
Golf course architecture in the U.S. shifted dramatically after World War II. Before 1930 (few courses of consequence were built during the Great Depression) architects essentially draped their golf courses over the rolling, often wooded landscape. They cut only the trees they needed to, and used mules and horses to dig bunkers and craft green complexes leaving the subtle undulations that still cause golfers to snap their putters nearly a century later.
After the war, golf course designers discovered the bulldozer and other earth-moving machinery. They could level any ground, knock down stands of trees with little effort and produce greens that are challenging but not particularly quirky.
Those modern courses play right into Woods's wheelhouse, allowing him to use what Hank Haney, who coached Woods until 2010, said are his former student's two best skills. "Tiger can be a little wild but he knows where he can miss and still recover," Haney said. "A lot of old courses don't really give you a chance to recover. You hit a bad tee shot and you're done."
Considered a brilliant course tactician, Woods has shown an ability to adjust and sometimes excel on tighter, shorter courses by playing smarter. At Royal Liverpool in 2006, for instance, he largely left his driver in the bag.
Woods will need those smarts this week at Merion, where he won't be able to take advantage of his exceptional ability to memorize the undulations of greens. Haney said Woods remembers nearly every break every one of his putts has ever taken.: a trick of memory that has helped him win eight titles at Bay Hill in Florida and at Torrey Pines in La Jolla, Calif., seven at Firestone in Ohio, five at Cog Hill in Illinois and five also at Ohio's Muirfield.
By contrast, since the PGA Tour doesn't stop at the classic Northeast courses year after year, so Woods hasn't played their greens often enough to memorize every hump and slope. Woods played Merion for the first time last month.
"If you are only playing the course once every 10 years and only have two practice rounds to figure it out, that might be part of the problem," Hanse said. "Tiger has a magnificent repeat record at a number of courses where he has course knowledge and preparation down cold and that is one of his advantages being a very smart player."
