Comrade shivas,
You ask, "-- what is the reason that multiple-option golf is better, on it's merits, than no-option, hit-it-here-or-else, golf??"
Two young members of the proletariat were ending their long work day on the collective farm in the outskirts of the city of Minsk. Even though they were tired, one suggested they should have some fun on their way home to the small apartment they shared with 23 others in the city.
He said, "Ivan, let's say we take out staffs and find round stones and hit them all the way to our gorgeously spartan flat. The one who gets there and can knock their stone into the outside commode in the least amount of swings is the winner."
Now, his comrade Igor was intrigued. He knew that the shortest way home was along a long, straight, flat path that led almost to the door of the apartment. He also knew his somewhat dull-witted friend Ivan would choose that route, as his mind had been somewhat stultified through too many years in the Red Army and re-education camps.
Although that was the direct route, Igor also knew that road to be more heavily trafficked with personnel carriers, and the big lumbering Russian tanks would often break down en route along that passageway. Beyond that, the main road was lined with thick, high grasses, which would make finding any wayward stone problematic, not to mention tougher to hit with the next swing.
So, Igor decided that he would take to the back roads, and make his way across more freely open terrain, across rolling hills, and into little farmland dells. He thought he could defeat his larger, stronger opponent using a little free thought and wile.
The two men set off in differing directions. This being pre-Gorbachev Soviet Union, each was stopped on his way by party officials from the KGB who asked what the were doing.
Who won? Well, Ivan of course. Even though it took him a full 348 blows (par was 300) to reach the commode, he ended up winning by default. You see, the party official who saw what Ivan was doing just nodded understandingly and let him continue on his way.
Unfortunately, poor Igor was unable to explain his deviation from the obvious route so satisfactorily, and was arrested and eventually hung as a subversive.
What is the moral of the story?
A tight, narrow golf course protected by deep rough will protect par and the status quo, certainly. So will the secret police.