On
a beautiful fall morning, Love and his brother, Mark, arrive in a
pick-up and
park next to what will be the second green of Ricefields,
an environmentally
sensitive layout scheduled to open this fall on
coastal Georgia’s Hampton Island. Love steps out, wearing his
architecture uniform: golf shirt, jeans, cap and a pair of well-worn
Timberlands
caked with mud from a previous site visit. Over the next
couple of hours, Love
adds another layer of earth to his boots as he
works with his team to refine and
reshape several holes.An avid hunter,
Love always enjoyed walking a raw site
before a project starts, but has
since found the construction process to be his
favorite aspect of
design. “I love going out there when there’s a really good
shaper and
build a little green in the dirt, then have everyone play with it and
discuss it,” Love says. “Then you go on to another hole and come back
in a few
hours and see what the shaper’s done, and say, ‘You got it.’
That to me is the
most fun. It’s not sitting in an office and looking
at
plans.”
The
fun increases exponentially when player-architects are presented
with sites like
those Crenshaw received at Sand Hills and Bandon Trails
(along with a client who
understands good golf design). Faldo may have
found such a landscape in
Cottonwood Hills, which sits just two miles
from Prairie Dunes Golf Club in
Kansas.The six-time major champ and ABC
announcer is also working on a Caribbean
project called Roco Ki, set on
a stunning piece of Dominican coastline, that
could well vault him to
Crenshaw-like status among architecture aficionados
worldwide.
Mickelson
receives weekly offers to put his signature on a project,
but he is determined
to avoid the “rent-a-pro” image, and his
selectivity is why he’s waited four
years since Whisper Rock opened for
his follow-up design, Palmwood, an exclusive
retreat featuring a
7,850-yard layout an hour from Mickelson’s San Diego
home.“The property
is a huge factor in my selection of a project,” says
Mickelson. “I
prefer to do high-end projects that allow me to provide a great
golf
experience and not a course set up just for homesites to surround it. I
like to keep it as natural as possible and move very little
dirt.”
When
it comes to shaping the site, the new breed strives for varied,
timeless and
challenging routings and designs that defy the kind of
characterization in which
some player-architects take pride (and by
which some developers are mysteriously
comforted). To the notoriously
studious Faldo, the lure of great design is in
the strategizing, not
the cultivation of a certain look. “It’s like a giant,
physical game of
chess played outdoors on an ever-changing stage,” he
says.
Like
sponges, the new breed soaks up information from various
sources, Crenshaw
foremost among them. “I know [Coore and Crenshaw]
spend a great amount of time
planning and routing the course,” says
Lehman. “I think that’s what made the
architects of the past so good,
too. They were geniuses at using contour as a
strategy. Too often we
think of strategy in terms of where you place the bunkers
or where the
water is. But so much of it comes down to how you use contour in
the
fairways to reward drives or in how you subtly slope the
greens.”
Love
is struck by the attention to detail displayed by Crenshaw and
Coore, who do not
use plans but work with a band of traveling artisans
from project to project,
crafting the holes as they go and allowing the
bosses to tinker with bunker
placement and green design. Love also
studied two of the best at work in his own
backyard, grilling Tom Fazio
during the redesign of Sea Island’s
Seaside course and Rees Jones
during the
construction of Ocean Forest.
“I
always knew what I liked and didn’t like,” Love says. “The hard
part is the
‘why.’ Why can’t we go over there? Why can’t we build it
like this? I’d say I
liked that green right there or that style of
hole, but I didn’t know how to
build it.”