Mike's thread about bunker depths got me thinking that it might be worth sharing an excerpt from our book Bunkers, Pits & Other Hazards.
If I had someone read one thing in our book, this might be it. For those of you who don't have our book, I hope you find this passage enjoyable (and if nothing else thought provoking).
The Concept of Fairness
The modern pursuit of fairness and equity has not necessarily been good for the game of golf. A pastime that once had only two rules, golf has now evolved to where a typed booklet of over 150-pages is required to explain the game. Ever since it was decided that “play it as it lies” and “the rub of the green” needed to be tweaked, the game seems to have suffered. Far too much time, too much money, and too much attention is now directed to making sure every good shot is rewarded and that perfect playing conditions leave no one with an “unfair” disadvantage. This mindset has led to expensive maintenance practices and less creative and more sterile playing grounds. Heaven forbid that two similar shots could potentially result in two distinct outcomes—one good and one bad. That would just not be fair—or would it?
Have golf architects and the clients they work with forgotten what golf is really all about? The game was never meant to emulate physics, where every action equates to an equal and opposite reaction. As with life, golf is expected to have ups and downs. Some days a golfer might do everything right, and yet the result still turns out bad. Other times, a lucky bounce or carom might lead to good fortune even when the swing and all its results should have led to an awful mess. Golf can teach us many lessons about life, but only if we allow skill, luck, and fate all to remain part of the game.
If all the uncertainty and unpredictable outcomes are conditioned away, what tests and challenges will remain? Aren’t those bumps in the road of life just like the hazards of golf? In many ways it is the triumph of overcoming setbacks that keeps us energized. Were it not for ordeals, it would only be a matter of time until we would become complacent and our lives (or rounds) filled with boredom.
When we think of “fairness,” we are reminded of a situation that occurred at The Old Course at St. Andrews. Walking up the 18th fairway after hitting our final tee shots, one member of our group cringed at the site of his ball lying in the middle of Grannie Clark’s Wynd, a macadam road that crosses the 1st and 18th fairways. The thought crossed his mind, “Here we are playing the grandest of all golf courses and this perfectly struck drive on the final hole has found a lone stretch of rockhard road in the center of the fairway. What a bad break. What poor luck to deserve such an unfair fate.” You see, in Scotland, and especially on The Old Course, you still play it as it lies, and this little macadam path is considered an integral part of the golf course. There is no free drop to gain relief. No automatic allowance that says you can place the ball back on forgiving turf to play your next stroke. No, you are stuck with the situation and you deal with it the best you can.
As the golfer prepared to play his shot from the tightest of lies, one couldn’t help but notice the spectators watching his misfortune from the fence rail along the hole. As his club swept toward the ball and picked it cleanly off the hard dark surface there was a sense of elation as it rose quickly and somehow managed to scurry up onto the green surface, coming to rest about 30 feet from the flagstick.
The golfer’s walk to the green was neither one he nor his playing partners would ever forget. Every one of the on-lookers had applauded the shot. Two putts later, the golfer scored one of the greatest pars, and most memorable moments of his golfing career. And all thanks to what looked like a dire and “unfair” circumstance.
But that is golf. Many of the elements that add so much richness to the game may be lost in our pursuit of “fairness.” There is too much at stake. The concept of fairness must be tempered at all cost.