Royal Birkdale Golf Club was founded in 1889, but its spirit
and soul are firmly entrenched in the 1930s. The mood is apparent from the
instant you arrive at the gleaming white Art Deco-style clubhouse.
The championship links belongs to the same era, being largely
the mid-1930s design of Fred Hawtree and John H. Taylor. By the 1930s blind
shots, even on a links, were widely regarded as outdated and apart from an
uphill tee shot at the 9th, Birkdale has none. Two-tiered greens were very much
“in” however, and Birkdale has several of these. As for the positioning of
bunkers, dictated more by nature than anything else on the older links courses,
the hazards at Birkdale are strategic, if a little too uniform in the opinion of
the traditionalists.
But what distinguishes Birkdale from ancient links is neither
the greens nor the hazards, but the fairways, emerald ribbons that weave their
way amid a singularly dramatic dunescape. From a distance Birkdale looks like an
amazingly rugged links. The sandhills are the largest and most extensive in
England, their scale
exceeded only by Ballybunion in the entire British
Isles.
Yet the fairways are, in fact, among the flattest and most
“even lie-producing” you are likely to encounter on a British links. This is
because the course is primarily routed along the base of valleys which run
beneath the avenues of dunes. The fairways do not attempt to clamber up and over
the dunes (as at Prestwick and St.
George’s, for instance). Awkward stances, like blind
shots, are totally alien to Royal Birkdale.
Along with Muirfield, Royal Birkdale has gained a reputation
as Britain’s “fairest” links. The
absence of capricious terrain is fundamental to this, as is the highly strategic
(as opposed to penal) hazard placement. From tee to green, Birkdale presents an
extremely strong obstacle test. The golf course rewards crisp, accurate
hitting—it is no coincidence that both Johnny Miller (1976) and Tom Watson
(1983) won here. And when the elements are stirred it encourages and again
rewards the shotmaker: Arnold Palmer (1961) and Lee Trevino (1971).
The course opens with three solid two-shotters—and three
changes in direction—and a lengthy par 3. The teasing begins at the 346-yard
5th, a short, and in very favorable conditions, drivable par 4. The first
gargantuan challenge comes at the 473-yard 6th, a formidable dogleg with a deep
bunker sited at the point of the dogleg: It eats into the fairway and at one
time actually traversed it—until somebody decreed that cross bunkers were unfair
and old fashioned. The hole also has an exposed, slightly plateaued green that
slopes sharply from back to front.
While many of the fairways and greens are located below the
level of the dunes, quite often the teeing areas are elevated and situated on
natural platforms. Exhilarating downhill tee shots are common and three of the
four short holes are played in such a manner, the 156-yard 7th being the most
dramatic example.
The 13th, once an easy par 5, is now a mighty 475-yard par 4.
(Strange how “Old Man Par” can so dictate a hole’s perception!) The 16th is a
medium-length par 4 with a raised green and a plaque just off the fairway that
commemorates an Arnold Palmer miracle recovery in the ’61 Open: Palmer thrashed
a 6-iron out of impenetrable rough and somehow contrived to land his ball on the
green.
Tony Jacklin eagled the par-5 17th during his epic encounter
with Jack Nicklaus in the final singles match of the 1969 Ryder Cup. It enabled
Jacklin to square the match and on the final green Nicklaus conceded the
Englishman’s “very missable” three-footer—a gesture that ensured the first ever
tied Ryder Cup contest.