St. George’s Episcopal Church is about 150 yards from the sixth green at the Merion Golf Club, where the United States Open will begin June 13.
The bells in the 81-year-old church tower ring every 30 minutes, a harmonic, if striking, clangor that interrupts the usual hush enveloping a putting green.
Imagine Tiger Woods poised over a crucial putt on the sixth hole during the final day of the Open. If his caddie has done his homework, he will not let Woods begin his stroke at the top or the bottom of the hour.
Because no one has told St. George’s to turn off its bells.
Over at the pivotal 18th tee, it will be a little more complicated charting the ambient sound. Caddies will need a commuter train schedule and a stopwatch to time the piercing air horn of a nearby train. Federal transportation safety regulations require the high-pitched air horn to blast at certain intervals. The trains, which pass various holes, are not stopping for the championship either.
This year’s United States Open will be different from any other in the modern history of the event, and not solely because of the potential auditory distractions.
The United States Golf Association, in an endorsement of old-style golf architecture and in a bold tribute to the game’s roots, has chosen to bring its signature championship to pocket-size and hemmed-in Merion.
The fabled East Course at the club, which hosted its first national championship in 1904, has been home to more national championships than any American site. But the last time the Open was at Merion, 32 years ago, the consensus was that the off-the-course extravaganza had grown so outsize, it would be the final time the modest club would see the event. The United States Open has grown exponentially since. (...)
The Merion grounds are about half the size of a 21st-century United States Open location. The club is confined by public roads, a bordering college, a meandering railway and dozens of homes.
In scale, bringing the modern United States Open to little Merion and its serene suburban environs is like bringing the Super Bowl to a small-college football field. And in this case, the Super Bowl comes for four consecutive days.
When the first tee shots rise into the air June 13, golf fans should be ready for things they have never seen before at a United States Open — and not just caddies reading putts with an eye on their wristwatches.
When was the last time a golfer in a major championship hooked a shot just 25 yards off line and landed in somebody’s patio barbecue grill? Or a second-floor bedroom? It’s possible on Merion’s 15th hole.
About 12,000 people live in the less than two square miles of Ardmore, the orderly, uncluttered Philadelphia suburb where the Merion Golf Club was built in 1896.
When the United States Open descends here, the number of security personnel, members of the news media, officials and volunteers will equal the community’s population. They will be joined by a clamorous congregation of 190,000 spectators, who over four days will flock to an immense corporate tent city, multiple hospitality villages, a 24,000-square-foot merchandising store and acres of temporary grandstands, spectator plazas and food courts. It is a golf-themed Mardi Gras wrapped within one of the year’s biggest sporting events — all encircled by nine miles of chain-link fencing.
But Merion is also hallowed golf ground, and returning American golf to its embryonic grass roots is expected to be part of the charm. This is where Bobby Jones completed his Grand Slam in 1930; where Ben Hogan launched his historic 1-iron at the 18th hole in 1950; where Lee Trevino pulled a fake snake from his golf bag before winning his playoff with Jack Nicklaus in 1971.
The whole idea is old time meets big time.
The bells in the 81-year-old church tower ring every 30 minutes, a harmonic, if striking, clangor that interrupts the usual hush enveloping a putting green.Imagine Tiger Woods poised over a crucial putt on the sixth hole during the final day of the Open. If his caddie has done his homework, he will not let Woods begin his stroke at the top or the bottom of the hour.
Because no one has told St. George’s to turn off its bells.
Over at the pivotal 18th tee, it will be a little more complicated charting the ambient sound. Caddies will need a commuter train schedule and a stopwatch to time the piercing air horn of a nearby train. Federal transportation safety regulations require the high-pitched air horn to blast at certain intervals. The trains, which pass various holes, are not stopping for the championship either.
This year’s United States Open will be different from any other in the modern history of the event, and not solely because of the potential auditory distractions.
The United States Golf Association, in an endorsement of old-style golf architecture and in a bold tribute to the game’s roots, has chosen to bring its signature championship to pocket-size and hemmed-in Merion.
The fabled East Course at the club, which hosted its first national championship in 1904, has been home to more national championships than any American site. But the last time the Open was at Merion, 32 years ago, the consensus was that the off-the-course extravaganza had grown so outsize, it would be the final time the modest club would see the event. The United States Open has grown exponentially since. (...)
The Merion grounds are about half the size of a 21st-century United States Open location. The club is confined by public roads, a bordering college, a meandering railway and dozens of homes.
In scale, bringing the modern United States Open to little Merion and its serene suburban environs is like bringing the Super Bowl to a small-college football field. And in this case, the Super Bowl comes for four consecutive days.
When the first tee shots rise into the air June 13, golf fans should be ready for things they have never seen before at a United States Open — and not just caddies reading putts with an eye on their wristwatches.When was the last time a golfer in a major championship hooked a shot just 25 yards off line and landed in somebody’s patio barbecue grill? Or a second-floor bedroom? It’s possible on Merion’s 15th hole.
About 12,000 people live in the less than two square miles of Ardmore, the orderly, uncluttered Philadelphia suburb where the Merion Golf Club was built in 1896.
When the United States Open descends here, the number of security personnel, members of the news media, officials and volunteers will equal the community’s population. They will be joined by a clamorous congregation of 190,000 spectators, who over four days will flock to an immense corporate tent city, multiple hospitality villages, a 24,000-square-foot merchandising store and acres of temporary grandstands, spectator plazas and food courts. It is a golf-themed Mardi Gras wrapped within one of the year’s biggest sporting events — all encircled by nine miles of chain-link fencing.
But Merion is also hallowed golf ground, and returning American golf to its embryonic grass roots is expected to be part of the charm. This is where Bobby Jones completed his Grand Slam in 1930; where Ben Hogan launched his historic 1-iron at the 18th hole in 1950; where Lee Trevino pulled a fake snake from his golf bag before winning his playoff with Jack Nicklaus in 1971.
The whole idea is old time meets big time.
