Randy,
That is precisely why the darlings of this website produce results a quantum leap beyond the bilious regurgitations, watered down strategies and vapid, repetitious putting surfaces of their "quick & dirty" peers. I suppose one could make the vacant argument that Raynor stuck to a series of templates, but each one introduced some kind of variation on the theme, which is why - despite the similarities between say, Fishers Island and Piping Rock - no Raynor course ever becomes tiresome.
Coore and Crenshaw courses are not without flaws - or controversial decisions - but it is obvious their final product was not drawn up on a drafting table and sent to Wadsworth with an occasional site visit. The same can be said for Pete Dye - like it or not, the courses where he kept his hands on the steering wheel from start to finish are usually fabulous.
There is no substitute for taking the time to ruminate over something. It is impossible to spit out the perfect solution with a stopwatch ticking in your ear. No, not everyone has the luxury of unlimited time, but in any artistic endeavor, it is crucial to keep massaging ideas until the very last second. Personally, I fiddle with lights on set right up to the moment the A.D. shouts "Picture is up, quiet please!"
A couple years ago, Neal and I were working out a redesign project in San Luis Obispo. He'd been hired to rework Loren Roberts' home track and things were going along just duckeroo - with just the right mix of respect for the original and some daring twists to spice up the journey. There was one thing that just kept bothering us (cue: Colombo voice) and we couldn't get it out of our minds: Why doesn't the par-5 downhill 5th hole look right? Drawn up, it looked really good . . . . . . but the rough grade just sorta - I don't know - didn't fit the ground.
About the 10th time we sat in the middle of the fairway trying to come to grips with what we hated about his otherwise gorgeously drawn green complex, the answer popped into our skulls at nearly the same instant. The entire arrangement was backwards! In other words, we took the drawing, turned it over and held it up to the greensite. Voila! Everything was perfect except it needed to be built as a mirror image.
The reality is, not many architects would have returned to ponder one green complex that many times - because the original concept would have passed muster with 99% of the membership. What finally got built came out terrific, almost as if one simple modification smoothed out an awkward transition - like correcting a single puzzle piece turned upside down.
Taking the time to finally figure it out made the difference - getting the last 10% exactly the way you want it, not for the client, but for yourself. Ultimately, those of us who pursue any artistic endeavor ultimately do it for ourselves - because we cannot stand walking away from something "just good enough." You can say you're doing it for the client, blah blah blah, but that is bullshit. You're putting your best effort into the ground because the ego of a *real* artist cannot stand to live with anything less.