Golf World - May

augusta’s routes
Fashions come and go,
technology moves forward
and golfers change – but
Augusta National has stood
the test of time as one of the
greatest layouts in the world.
This is largely down to the fact that
the challenge designers Dr Alister
MacKenzie and Bobby Jones envisioned
and created in the early 1930s remains
fundamentally unchanged today. It’s a
design that tests every facet of the best
players in the world and forces them
intently to analyse every shot they play
and execute it to near-perfection. Make
bad choices and errant swings and you
will be punished. But understand the
design philosophies behind one of the
most revered courses in golf and you’ll
discover the road to Masters success –
Augusta’s secret routes.
MacKenzie and Jones complemented
each other perfectly. Jones’ brilliance as a
player meant that he had a unique
understanding of how the elite player
would think and how the ball reacted
once it hit the ground. MacKenzie’s
brilliance as a designer and his
fascination with camouflage from his
time spent serving in the Boer War
meant he was able to take the greatest
possible advantage of the natural terrain
and beauty of the former nursery land.
And they both agreed on the design
philosophies that would underpin their
‘dream’ course.
They wanted the mental challenge to
come to the fore in a way that would
allow both the elite and the average
player to be tested at the same time,
over the same piece of land. This was
especially important to Jones. Writing in
his book Golf is My Game, he said: “The
first purpose of any golf course should be
to give pleasure, and that to the greatest
possible number of players, without
respect to their capabilities.” And this
fitted perfectly with MacKenzie’s mantra
that he tried to build courses “for the
most enjoyment for the greatest number”.
Both men also shared a love of St
Andrews that prompted the belief that
each hole should offer a variety of
strategies. The thing that made golf
interesting to them was options: let a
player judge his own capabilities on any
given day, and give him one or two
alternate routes. If a player felt strong
enough, he should be encouraged to
cut the dog-leg (and be rewarded
accordingly); but if he felt less sure, he
should have other options.
This was precisely what made the Old
Course unique in their eyes. Designing
was a subtle art. It wasn’t simply about
putting hazards out there, and punishing
bad shots; more about rewarding good
ones. If, for instance, you could gently
encourage a player to bravely take on a
tricky tee shot, he should be rewarded
with an easier second. It wasn’t necessarily
the case that holes had to be protected
May 2015 Golf World 73