has been bitterly fighting the proposal for months, insisting that the proposed turbines will destroy the beauty of Aberdeenshire’s coast and sink Scotland’s tourism business. Now it appears that he’s willing to spend pretty much whatever it takes to stop the wind farm dead in its tracks. “We will put our future plans in Aberdeen on hold, as will many others, until this ridiculous proposal is defeated,” he said in a comment published by the Scotsman. “Likewise, we will be bringing a lawsuit within the allocated period of time to stop what will definitely be the destruction of Aberdeen and Scotland itself.” It’s hard to predict how this conflict will end. Without question, Trump understands that he can’t create a viable vacation destination with just one golf course. But after drawing such a hard line in the coastal sand, what’s his fallback position? If he does indeed pull the plug on his development plans, who does he really hurt? Or, to ask the question another way, how many enemies will Trump henceforth make in Scotland before he finally admits to being defeated?
March was chilly, and as a result it doesn’t appear that golf courses in the United States will get the weather-related bump in rounds played that they received in 2012. A case in point is Forest Hills Golf Course in La Crosse, Wisconsin, which WXOW says is “still covered with snow and ice.” Last year, the course opened on March 12. “I think last year we did over 1,600 rounds of golf in the month of March,” the club’s general manager told the television station. “This year is going to be zero.” Golf properties elsewhere in Wisconsin, as well as those in other cold-weather climes, will likewise open later this year. So a critical question moves to center stage: Can an improving economy alone help U.S. golf courses generate more play they did in 2012?
Lahinch Golf Club is in financial hot water. The world-renowned, 121-year-old club in County Clare, Ireland has lost 500 fee-paying members since 2009, and, in an effort to replace them, it’s sliced its initiation fee from €25,000 (roughly $32,000) to €10,000 ($12,800). Cutting fees is always a dicey strategy, because Lahinch now needs to sign two and a half new members to generate the same income it formerly got from just one. This math problem is especially worrisome because margins at the club, which Herbert Warren Wind once described as “the St. Andrews of Ireland,” have thinned dramatically. Last year, according to the Irish Times, the club’s profits fell by almost half, to €291,947 ($374,300) from €540,231 ($693,000) in 2011.
The forthcoming Coore & Crenshaw-designed golf course in Dallas, Texas appears to be rolling in membership dough. The promoters of Trinity Forest Golf Club told D magazine that they’ve collected 100 commitments from prospective members, “each with a ballpark $150,000 initiation fee.” If those numbers are accurate, then AT&T, which conceived Trinity Forest as an image enhancer for its golf marketing program, has so far been promised $15 million. Not a bad haul, especially when you consider that the company is only kicking $2.5 million into the venture.
It’s safe to assume that AT&T hasn’t yet sold a Trinity Forest membership to Don Williams. Williams, a long-time developer -- he’s a former CEO of Trammell Crow Company -- isn’t convinced the club will create as many jobs as AT&T says it will, and he thinks the city of Dallas should invest its $12 million commitment to the club’s construction in more reliable economic-development efforts. “When I first saw it, I looked at it and thought it was the worst use of $12 million that the city could possibly spend,” Williams said in comments published by the Dallas Business Journal. “The last thing we need is another high-end golf course.” Obviously, the city doesn’t agree. It’s promised to kick in its share of the construction costs as soon as AT&T rings up $20 million in membership commitments, an amount that’s already within sight.
Not often does a writer compare one golf architect’s work directly against another’s. But Jason Scott Deegan recently did so, and he singled out two heavyweights: Jack Nicklaus and Tom Doak. During a golf vacation in New Zealand, Deegan played Nicklaus’ course at Kinloch Club and Doak’s at Cape Kidnappers, and he concluded that “the experience of walking off of both couldn’t have been more different.” Halfway through his round at Kinloch, Deegan said, he “was ready to quit the game.” After playing Cape Kidnappers, however, he was “ready to retire, move to New Zealand, and play golf every day the rest of [his] life.” His verdict: “Doak designs courses that are fun and playable,” while Nicklaus “penalizes even good shots.” Both types of courses have their place, Deegan suggests, but Doak’s fit the current zeitgeist better. Maybe that’s why Doak has his name on four of the top seven layouts listed on Golfweek’s Best Modern Courses for 2013, while Nicklaus has his name on just one. Coincidentally, the one is Sebonack Golf Club in New York, which Nicklaus co-designed with Doak.
As we wait for Mike Keiser and his partners to break ground on the second course at Cabot Links, consider what course number one has done for the town of Inverness, Nova Scotia. “Stellar coverage in Golf Digest and the New York Times brought the visitors,” writes the Chronicle Herald, “and the spillover effects are waking up the region.” The newspaper’s story is, unfortunately, built exclusively on anecdotal evidence, and it’ll be years before we can do a thorough economic analysis. But the message is clear: Since last summer, when Rod Whitman’s course opened, golf has made a difference on Cape Breton Island.
Arnold Palmer may believe that the future of golf is in significant ways tied to the 2016 Olympics, but as I intimated recently, many of our contemporaries believe that golf’s appearance at the games in Brazil deserves nothing more than a hearty yawn. Just a couple of weeks ago, after hearing that Gil Hanse’s course was finally under construction, a writer for the National asked a question not often heard in golf circles: “Who cares?” His argument: For any professional golfer, winning a gold medal in the Olympics doesn’t mean nearly as much as winning, say, a green jacket or a Claret Jug. “The ceaseless political histrionics about the Olympic course project outside Rio has become annoying white noise to many,” Steve Elling contends, “just more blather to be ignored for a game whose inclusion as a medal sport was contentious to begin with.” His final request: “Wake me when it’s over.”
Overwhelmed by work? Bracket busted? Still too cold to play the season’s first round? Maybe you should pour yourself a cold one. But first ask yourself: Did our most ancient ancestors grow grain for beer even before they cultivated it for bread?
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