The first time I played Lawsonia, the turf was infested with grubs and played extremely soft (I'm pretty sure this was in the late summer). The grubs were a bit of a nuisance, but the soft conditions were a detriment to my enjoyment. I could see how the ball should bounce and run, how various features could be used to move the ball across the land, but that day it wasn't happening.
I didn't walk away thinking any less of the "greatness" of the course, and on repeated plays, those features worked as I imagined they would.
Perhaps I was able to separate the "how it is" from "how it could be." Perhaps this is due to an understanding that the overriding force at play in the game of golf is nature. The design and maintenance of a course strive to present some sort of ideal, one that is bound by the limits mother nature presents on any given day, in any given month or during any given season.
It is the study of that ideal that we pursue here. Anyone who doesn't understand that the "playing" isn't always going to match the intent of the architecture, or the ideal, has forgotten that golf courses aren't static.
There's a reason its easier to get access to many top American courses in November than it is in September. No one wants to miss those days they know the conditions are perfect on their favorite course.
Sven