Why ‘favourites’ is a better way of grading golf courses instead of rankings.
I’ve got to be honest, I’ve never been a fan of course ‘rankings’. While there is some objectivity involved when assessing the relative merits of golf courses – there are obvious commonalities between the truly great ones – in the end it mostly comes down to subjectivity. We all have our own preferences, which I think is a better word to use. ‘Preference lists’ is, for me, the way to go.
It’s like music. There is no ‘best music’; there is only the music you like, or don’t like. Yes, you can apply some objectivity to the process and conclude that The Beatles were clearly superior to a ‘one-hit wonder’ group. But when it comes right down to it, what you like is going to determine the ‘best’ music on your particular list.
Golf courses are like that, too. There are clearly courses the vast majority of us say are “one of the best”. But even that is only a guide. In the end, we’re talking subjectively. Mostly, at least.
I know and understand how and why most golfers are attached to their home courses and like to point out how it is ‘better’ than others. But I also know that most of us get as much pleasure from playing our own, lower-ranked course versus one higher on most lists. All too often, familiarity leads to ‘blind’ affection, which is never a fair measure of quality.
I’m not saying ranking lists are not interesting. It’s cool to find out what the best course in, say, Australia might be. And to discover where your own course stacks up, at least in popular opinion. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter beyond marketing the course to visitors. Otherwise, it is no more than dinner conversation or debate. Which, to be fair, is always fun.
Those chats nearly always lead to better understanding. Take Rory McIlroy’s view on Royal Melbourne versus Kingston Heath. What we all must understand (as Rory pointed out in the March issue of this magazine) is that he looks at courses through the lens of a long-hitting tour pro. He’s not necessarily an architecture ‘geek’, or someone with an exceptional knowledge of golf history. So his view emanates from his own starting position and his own experiences, which may or may not gel with your own.
There are other variables involved. If you happen to play a course when the wind is howling and it is raining, you are probably going to leave with a different view than the next guy who played on a flat-calm, sunny day. Or maybe you just performed poorly that day. If so, you are likely to go away with an inferior opinion of holes you struggled on. Again, it’s nearly impossible to eliminate self-interest from your deliberations. Everyone has preferences – even the most well-known course architects.
So, upon further review, I’d like to call these ‘favourite lists’. For one thing, ‘ranking’ endows too much seriousness to the process.
Which brings me to what I prefer. I like courses that make me think. I want variety, too. I don’t want to be hitting the same club off every tee, or the same iron to every par 3. I like courses that ask me interesting questions, then leaves it to me to find the answers.
Some questions are straightforward: “Can you hit the ball here?” But there has to be more to a shot than simply execution. Better questions are more nuanced and contain imagination and visualisation: “Can you hit the ball here? To do so you need to hit a particular shot…” Many really great holes ask for a draw off the tee and a fade with the second shot – the 13th at Augusta National is one great example. That hole challenges me to be a better golfer because there is a high level of risk involved.
The ninth hole at Augusta is another hole that has always asked me difficult questions. The uphill second shot demands a draw, yet the ball invariably sits on a downslope below my feet. That’s the most difficult stance when a draw is required. From a flat lie, that would be a relatively easy shot and every pro would hit it to 20 feet or so. Too easy. In contrast, the lie you do get asks a degree-level question, not a high-school question.
That may sound like it is way too hard for most players. But this is my scenario – and why I prefer ‘preference lists’ when it comes to rating courses.
Anything that takes away skill – rough that is too deep and/or pitch-out bunkers – is going to see me downgrading a course. Penal is no fun, although there is a time and a place for it, as there is for any and all aspects of great golf.
Take Pine Valley, which is perennially ranked No.1 in the world on most lists. When I go there, I tend to agree. It’s a beautiful place. The holes are varied. And the fairways are wide. Yet scoring well is really tough. If you are not at least a single-figure handicapper, Pine Valley is not the best course in the world. It’s just the best course in the world for good golfers. Which begs the question: if it is not the best course in the world for everyone, can it really be the best course in the world?
So there you have it. ‘Ranking’ golf courses is all about opinions and questions. And there are no right and wrong answers.
My top-10/11 favourites in Australia
I have played, or not played (in no particular order)
- Royal Melbourne (West)
- Kingston Heath
- Peninsula Kingswood (North)
- Victoria
- Peninsula Kingswood (South)
- Royal Melbourne (East)
- Barnbougle Dunes
- Royal Adelaide
- Lost Farm
- Cape Wickham/7 Mile Beach (both of which I know would be in my top 10)
Photos by Getty Images/david cannon (pine valley), gary lisbon
