Excited that a Renaissance Golf Design course may be built in the oak-dotted golden foothills of central California. I saw the pictures on Instagram. It's the landscape that registers as home to me. I may have to break out the Creedence Clearwater catalog and listen to an old chestnut to take me back.
I think the opposite argument is just as valid. If this resort will be as exclusive as you say, perhaps $2-5k per day to stay and play, it could have a negative subconscious effect on evaluators. "How much does it cost to stay here? Well, it's not that great."
As Mose Allison says in "Young Man Blues", the old man's got all the money (and a young man, ain't got nothin' in the world these days), so I think the clientele will be older and pleased with a 6500-6700 yard course. Of course, at that modest full yardage, the yards need to be divided up so a good player hits a few long approach shots.
Yesterday, I played an enjoyable four ball match with a good friend and his son, who both played college golf. The son just graduated from college, and now spends a couple hours a day lifting weights. My partner was Dusty Schmidt, a well known former pro turned online poker legend. Dusty was out of shape and a bit under the weather, but still shot 71. However, Scott's son Nick shot 67, and they pulled away at the end. I was proud of myself as I played well as the "D" player in the group, breaking 80 easily and playing about the same as Scott, who is the same age as me. It was hot, and still smoky from fires in western Canada, and the ball was flying, which the old guys feel good about themselves.
Nick got hot in the middle of the round, making four straight birdies on a tough stretch of holes. On the slightly downhill 560 yard 7th hole, he hit the second longest tee shot I've ever seen at Pumpkin Ridge, this time without the wind helping. He launched a slightly faded, high rocket, leaving 199 to the center. He followed that up with a 6-iron to about 15 feet to a short pin. On the 9th hole, he nailed another cracker, about 310-320 into a slight breeze, then wedged to 2 feet to a tough pin, for another gimme birdie.
A memorable day for me. When I was a kid, the fathers used to play basketball on Sunday mornings with the sons at the local elementary school, from the time the fathers were much better than the boys, until the boys started to catch and surpass their dads in ability. This is an emotionally satisfying type of group for me to play in, again a connection to home, where the old guys are compelled through pride to keep up with the youngsters on the playing field, though handicapped by a 50-100 yard disadvantage off the tee.