An Argument in Favor of the Newly 'Oak-less' Oakmont

If you are like me and are chronically online, you have seen one of the many posts centering around the removal of trees at Oakmont Country Club throughout the years, and the opinions range far and wide. Some sing the praises of Gill Hanse and applaud his recent restoration of the storied course. Conversely, you see many who fall in the camp that feels the removal of trees in the modern era of golf architecture is a stain on the game.

No matter which side of the argument you fall on, I am here to say, loudly and emphatically: I don’t care. There is a reason they got rid of them.

Don't get me wrong, I can certainly empathize with the other side of the argument.

Talking recently with a buddy of mine on this topic, he mentioned “I just love when trees frame the hole. There is something about when you look up and only see the hole you’re on and the rest of the course is blocked out that is just, special." I think most golfers would agree what a peaceful moment where the world feels like a (literal) forest away and you're on the golf course playing the game we love so much. That feeling of being “alone” in the middle of the course on a beautiful day is nothing short of euphoric. Now, what happens after you step up to your tee shot is none of my business (and the trees won't judge you either.

(Insert condescending sigh) However...when looking at this specific example of Oakmont Country Club getting rid of the trees, it feels like the correct decision.

And before I even start to explain why. If you're argument for keeping trees on a golf course is so spectators can escape the sun, don't even start. Every single golfer and golf fan needs to be responsible for their own personal sun protection strategy. Don't even think of taking one step on a golf course without proper headwear, eyewear, apparel, sunscreen...the works. Yes, taking shade beneath trees is a great way to manage sun exposure but that should not be your first, second or third line of defense from the sun.

I digress.

First, this is how the course was imagined by Henry Fownes in its inception in 1903. Any argument past this in favor of trees should be deemed null and void. I don’t care how smart you felt when you tweeted that “it’s called OAKmont ffs”; any idea that trees play an integral part in the history of this course is nonsense. You are certainly entitled to an opinion but it's hard to say it’s wrong when the person who conceived the course had a specific idea in mind.

Henry Fownes, Founder of Oakmont Country Club

Fownes' vision took about a year to build on a plot that was previously farmland and it has remained relatively true to the original layout. Even the building of the Pennsylvania Turnpike in the late 1940s that has the highway running through a part of the course didn't force the design to stray much from its design at inception. This preservation was recognized in 1987 when Oakmont Country Club was designated a National Historical Landmark.

Early photos of Oakmont's Church Pew Bunkers (via USGA)

On top of that, Oakmont’s identity in golf is built around having the deepest rough and the fastest greens. When looking at this from an agronomic perspective, having trees contradicts the course's ability to put all efforts into fast and slick greens and hearty rough. A recent article in the New York Times touches on this beautifully.

“Trees compete with grass for the three things a course needs to thrive: air, light and water,” Paul Sullivan wrote.

Getting rid of one less variable in this equation lets you focus more on the health of the fairways and greens, which I think we can all agree is a good thing.

Looking at this from a purely strategic point of view, adding in trees that can affect the line of play, takes Oakmont from a tough test to borderline unfair. Yes, I know the numbers say course played easier with the trees than without—a 10-stroke increase from the 1994 U.S. Open to 2007 and considerable decrease of trees—but the presence of those once-present trees significantly decreased the sizes of the fairways and greens from those surface areas competing for air, light and water, leadings to more challenging landing areas and even more rough.

When it comes to diabolical rough, if you’re going to have it, you can’t also have trees. They serve the same purpose in creating a penalty for errant tee shots. But if you have both , the game gets very one dimensional.

Even in rough as thick as Oakmont’s, there is a chance (albeit a small one) that you can get a club on the back of the ball and tumble something near the green (Bryson just accomplished this as I was typing). Add a tree into this equation, and you are all but guaranteeing a chip out back to the fairway.

When I think about courses lined with trees, Augusta National certainly comes to the forefront. Part of the magic behind Augusta is that if a player hits a tee shot offline, the ball normally finds a playable lie, leading way to many of the iconic shots we all remember.

Bubba Watson plays at a shot from the rough on second sudden death playoff hole on the 10th during the final round of the 2012 Masters Tournament (Photo by Streeter Lecka/Getty Images)

Imagine if Bubba Watson hit his ball deep into the right woods on No. 10 and his ball was buried in five inches of rough. The same with Phil on No. 13 in 2010. We would be robbed of some of the coolest moments in golf history.

The best part about the U.S Open is the variety of courses that host America’s greatest championship. From Pinehurst No. 2 and Winged Foot to Pebble Beach and Shinnecock, each course has its own identity. Oakmont's identity is on full display this week. Instead of arguing about why you may or may not like that identity, take a breath and just enjoy what the course does has to offer.