PINEHURST, NORTH CAROLINA | Like art, pizza and spouses, what works for one doesn’t necessarily tick the happy box of another.
It’s why some people vacation in Vegas, some go to the beach and some people think it’s fun to sleep in a tent without a shower, a toilet or ESPN.
Which brings us to Pinehurst No. 2 where the U.S. Open is grinding along like a sled across a gravel road. It is everything a U.S. Open should be: challenging, maddening and a place where bogeys are as prevalent as Skittles at a kids party.
USGA officials insist their U.S. Open course setups are not driven by protecting par, and they’ve demonstrated some elasticity in that regard in recent years, going so far as to throw a metaphorical glass of chilled Pelligrino in the faces of Los Angeles Country Club members who grudgingly opened their very private doors last year, only to see Xander Schauffele and Rickie Fowler roast the grass off the place with first-round 62s.
No one has scared such a score this week at Pinehurst, and it has been delightfully entertaining, especially if you enjoy watching grown men gnash their teeth and slump their shoulders as if they’ve just been cut from the school basketball team.
There’s nothing wrong with the winning U.S. Open score being a handful of strokes under par, and that’s probably where it will land Sunday afternoon when the champion scales the slope toward the 18th green.
It’s getting there – how it looks, how it plays and how it feels – that creates a dividing line like some of No. 2’s famous ridges. Some love it and some don’t, but it asks direct questions. It’s unique.
Two guys shot 65 on Thursday. Hideki Matsuyama shot 66 on Friday. Collin Morikawa matched that on Saturday. Bryson DeChambeau 3D-printed his name on a three-shot lead with his impressive 67 on Saturday, sending him into Sunday with his second U.S. Open victory 18 demanding holes away.
“Honestly, absolute mental torture, really. Like, that’s the best level par I’ve ever shot in my life. Honestly. – Shane Lowry
It shows that Pinehurst No. 2 is not impossible. It’s just hard and statistically, it’s playing about like it did a decade ago when it also was hot and dry for the Open.
Shane Lowry shot even-par 70 on Saturday and sounded proud of it.
“Honestly, absolute mental torture, really,” Lowry said. “Like, that’s the best level par I’ve ever shot in my life. Honestly. Every single shot you have – every shot, even if you have a good shot – every single shot is brutally difficult.”
Ask Tony Finau, who made a triple-bogey-7 at the par-4 13th after his second shot landed well onto the green before slowing rolling back down a hill. From there, Finau made a mess of it. He was perhaps 1 foot from putting for a birdie but instead wound up ruining three days of otherwise very good work.
A similar thing happened to Ludvig Åberg, who suddenly looked flappable.
The penalty for a small miss can be severe, but the same can be said for hitting it 1 foot too short over a pond.
If golf were like this every day, one of two things would happen: pickleball courts would be even more crowded or we’d all be members at Oakmont (site of the 2025 U.S. Open) where they take a perverse pride in getting beaten up.
That doesn’t mean No. 2 is unfair. Its greens complexes are more dramatic than what Donald Ross originally created, but they define No. 2 the way the cliffs and ocean define Pebble Beach (which has more mundane holes than No. 2 but wins on aesthetics obviously).
Handling No. 2 when it’s as firm and fast as it has become is a bit like chess: playing at least one move ahead to be in the right spots or risk spilling a double bogey on the scorecard.
Playing directly at the hole works on the PGA Tour, which is in the entertainment business, but it’s a dangerous way to play this U.S. Open.
Are good shots occasionally unfairly penalized? Yes, but not consistently so. As Lowry said, playing No. 2 is the ultimate head game because it’s so easy to focus on all the places not to hit it.
Max Homa missed the cut at Pinehurst and then said this on social media:
“Pinehurst may be my favorite course I’ve ever played.”
“I think when it comes to the U.S. Open, ‘borderline’ is such like a trigger word. No matter what I think, you have a pretty good understanding of where you’re trying to hit the ball.” – Scottie Scheffler
Scottie Scheffler is too nice of a guy to go negative, but it doesn’t take Scotland Yard to discern that No. 2, with its sandy scruff and rounded edges the layout, doesn’t, as golfers like to say, fit his eye.
It’s not as if Scheffler brought his best stuff this week, either. He has earned a flat week even if his timing could have been better. When he birdied the eighth hole Saturday, it ended a career-long streak of 26 consecutive holes without a birdie or eagle in a tournament.
Scheffler, who posted rounds of 71-74-71 this week, was diplomatic when asked about No. 2.
“I think when it comes to the U.S. Open, ‘borderline’ is such like a trigger word. No matter what I think, you have a pretty good understanding of where you’re trying to hit the ball,” Scheffler said.
“It’s when I start not hitting the ball into the places where you should hit the ball, that’s where things get tricky.”
There is no rough at No. 2, but there are acres of immaculately unkempt natural areas where chance comes heavily into play. Watching the game’s best cope with the sand, the undergrowth and wiregrass is more fun than seeing everyone chop out of ankle-deep rough when they miss a fairway.
The runoffs around the greens are more severe than at Augusta National, but the putting surfaces themselves aren’t as contoured as the fifth, sixth, ninth and 14th greens there, to name a few.
“You can’t fake in a round when it’s this tough. Everything gets exposed,” Morikawa said. “Yes, some good shots aren’t rewarded as well as you would want. It’s a true test of who can stay as patient as possible.”
There is a case to be made that Pinehurst No. 2 is the perfect U.S. Open course because it favors no particular style of player. Next year, the same likely will be said about Oakmont, where the greens probably will be more severe, and later about Shinnecock Hills.
It’s a matter of taste.