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The drive from East Hampton GC over to the Bridge ought to take about 20 minutes at the most. It's only 10 miles, most of them on a highway. But Hamptons traffic being what it is, you can count on at least 40 minutes. Even on a weekday afternoon in mid-May, Highway 27 is so choked with cars you'll be unable to move much faster than 10 miles per hour.
Sure, it's crowded out here, you may find yourself thinking. But how many of these drivers can afford to pay $525,000 for a golf club membership? That's what it takes to join the Bridge, the most expensive club in the Hamptons and one of the most expensive in the world.
The Bridge sits on the former Bridgehampton Raceway, a 520-acre race-car track that course developer Bob Rubin, a racing nut, has owned since the early 1980s. "Why does it cost so much to join?" he asks. "I like to say that half of it is for the course I built and the other half is for the course I didn't build." Most of the land remains wide open - a rare thing in the increasingly jam-packed Hamptons. "You don't see any homes out there on the course," says Rubin, a 50-year-old former commodities and currency trader. "To find that kind of scale and that kind of tranquility, that's what you're paying for."
The rap on Rubin is that he's not a "golf guy." He took up the game just five years ago and carries a 20-handicap. Before opening the Bridge he was as a member of Southampton GC, which, while a fine Seth Raynor design, is known as a "locals" club. Like nearby Noyac GC, it lacks the cachet of a Shinnecock, National or Maidstone.
Say what you will about Rubin, you have to give him this much: He aims high. Obviously inspired by the Atlantic's success, Rubin hired Rees Jones to design the Bridge and brought in Jeff Warne, the Atlantic's director of instruction, as his head pro. Apart from the tranquility, the course's strongest selling point is its incredible views. You can see parts of the Long Island Sound on 14 of its 18 holes. And with a greenkeeping crew of more than 20, it is in impeccable condition. As one local pro puts it, "The more money you pay to belong, the less grass you have to hit off of. It's actually kind of ridiculous how much mowing they do out there."
Rubin's goal is to have 150 members at the Bridge. So far, he has only 59. Part of the problem, he acknowledges, is that he still has no clubhouse. Members are expected to cough up half a million dollars to join his club, plus $20,000 in annual dues, and they still have to change their shoes in a trailer by the driving range. The plan is to break ground on a clubhouse this summer and have it ready by next spring. Designed by architect Roger Ferris, the Bridge's clubhouse will be a sleek, modern building that already has some Hamptonites holding their noses. "I saw the model," says a member of one local club. "It looked like some kind of spaceship - a UFO!"
But Rubin is unfazed. "I've sold eight memberships this year, and it's not even half over," he says. "This is heavy mating season right now. I wouldn't be surprised if I had 10 by the Open."
If Rubin is not "a golf guy," his antithesis is Ken Bakst, the owner of Friar's Head. Bakst, a former member of Atlantic GC, is a real estate developer and an accomplished amateur golfer. He played on the Stanford golf team in the late 1970s-early 1980s, won the U.S. Mid-Amateur in 1997 and got to compete in the '98 Masters. (He went 82-78, missing the cut.)
Bakst is not what you would call easy going. Serious and intensely private, "he's a hard one," says a friend. He is often described as the club's "dictator." Members are reluctant to give out even the most basic information about their club - roughly how many people belong, for instance - because, as one says, "Kenny doesn't like to talk about those things." After being interviewed by Golf World, one Friar's Head member called back asking not to be quoted. Reminded that we already had agreed not to mention his name, he said, "Yeah, but I'm worried that he'll be able to identify me by some of the things I said." All positive things, incidentally.
No one disputes that Bakst has built a beautiful golf course on a sensational piece of land. Like East Hampton, it's a Coore and Crenshaw design, this one running among the dunes and potato fields of Long Island's North Shore with sweeping views of the Sound and Connecticut in the distance. Bakst's aim was to create something with a historical feel. "What we were trying to accomplish is more aligned with what was done 80 years ago, architecturally," he says. Not only did it have to look natural, it had to make you think. Thus the smart play on every hole isn't just bombing it down the sprinkler line. You have to pick your spots and expect the unexpected every now and then, like a bunker in the middle of the fairway or the occasional blind shot. "It's like an architectural time machine," says one member. "It's almost like Seth Raynor or C.B. Macdonald designed it."
To make peace with environmentalists who opposed development of the land, Bakst agreed to limit construction of homes on the property to 69, down from an original plan of up to 333. "It's doubtful that many, if any, of those homes will get built," Bakst says. The word is that he has sold more than 100 memberships at around $235,000 a piece, though Bakst won't comment on either of those figures.
Over at the new Sebonack GC, developer Mike Pascucci is downright voluble by comparison. He figures his his club, set on 300 highly scenic acres just around the corner from Shinnecock, is going to cost about $100 million to build. The land alone cost him $46 million. (By contrast Bob Rubin spent "only" $25 million to build the Bridge.) Yet says he honestly doesn't know how much he's going to charge for his memberships. He's going to focus on building a great course and worry about selling memberships later. "My motive isn't profit," insists Pascucci, a former auto-finance executive and owner of Long Island TV station WLNY (Channel 55). "Ideally, I'd like to break even, but I'm not letting money dictate what we do."
Both Nicklaus and Doak were interested in doing the design, Pascucci says, and they agreed to a collaboration in April. There are some unknowns, he adds, including who's doing exactly what on the project. Both designers have come up with routings, and in each case 15 holes are slated to have water views or will be right on the water. "It's amazing to be out there, to have these golf holes on the water. You just don't see that on the East Coast," says Pascucci, who belongs to five golf clubs, including Deepdale GC and Nassau CC on Long Island. He hopes to have the course open for play by August 2005. Considering its location - right next to Shinnecock and the National - you might imagine Sebonack's owner viewing his club as a rival to its famous neighbors. Not so, says Pascucci. "Shinnecock is a top, world-leading golf club, and so is the National. We don't expect to go hole-by-hole, match play, with them or anybody else. We're just trying to build the best course we can."
Anyway, it's not as if Shinnecock and the National are worried about the competition - from Sebonack or any other club. However great the new courses may be, says one Shinnecock member, "it's going to take 100 years before anyone views them as equals."
June 11, 2004