The first inkling that the day of golf is going to be something special, presents itself as a view of the polo fields through the passenger side car window.The vague uneasiness of not following directions to the storied old club is immediatly replaced with a delightful curiosity.The small wooden sign that proclaims "Polo Sunday 3 pm" looks as natural in its placement as the expanse of green it guards.Suddenly time mets away and you may just as well be looking at the same scene from the family horse drawn wagon 100 years ago.
Just beyond the polo fields a small stone lined driveway that turns in to a country lane lined with oaks,maples and elms not quite in the full brilliant blaze of a New England autumn winds its way in to the club. The now reluctant motorist is filled with the anticipation of a young child on Christmas eve. Just ahead, the magnificent clubhouse presents itself in perfect harmony with the kennels,stables,and maintainence buildings to the left of the circle.The perfect utility of the buildings is what impresses most,their placement and design are complimentary to their purpose,the sheer expanse is awe inspiring.
The sight of grooms attending to magnificent chestnut steeds within 100 yards of a mechanic working on the knife bed of a fairway mower is inexplicably natural in this setting.Each intent on their task,aware, but unconcerned of the others presence,yet connected by the confidence of competence.
Through the "breeze way" the practice putting green is visible behind the clubhouse
beckoning to eager participants.The small pro shop building on the hillside casts a watchful eye on the scene below blending perfectly with the topography of the holes it oversees,visible but unobtrusive,but undeniably in control. The driving range positioned on a natural terrace behind the pro shop to the left of the 17th fairway,everything in its place,everything to its purpose.
From the blind tee shot on the short first hole,to the terrifying bunkers to be negotiated on 18, Myopia is a study of interesting efficencies.The use of the natural land forms is stunning,creating a mind numbing variety and endless choices for pitches,chips,flops,bump and runs,to all out blasts with all the clubs in the bag.It takes imagination to play Myopia well.Some of the elevation changes are dramatic and severly impact "yardage". "Feel",is a most important skill to possess at Myopia.This is so far from the formulamatic hit it precise yardage of modern tour golf.The player must be prepared to feel the shots and accept the inexact results of the odd bounces.The excitement of luck is evident in the game here,as it was in the beginning.
Playing what is essentially a living golf museum creates it own set of mental challenges far beyond the vagueries of our own particular swing thoughts.The "Jones Town" bunkers and the "Taft" bunker start a mental movie of golf in the golden age that is impossible for the rabid golfer to stop.Visions of Jones in his tie and plus fours, standing right where you are considering his options sends an undeniable thrill through the nervous system.The natural fescue wild and forbidding on the hillsides,framing the sanctuary of the fairways,and the delicious and diabolical pitch of the greens,guarded by deep stark bunkers,flood the senses on every hole.The simultaneous sadness and joy when the last putt is holed.Sadness because the round is over,joy because of the experience.Such is the human condition,and golf at its best.
It had been ten years since I last played Myopia,it just keeps getting better.A wonderfully unique anachronism true to its purpose.
All GCAers should try and play it,you won't be disappointed.