John O'Sullivan explains the unique position the Black course at Bethpage, New York, holds in the public imagination
The eyes of the golfing world focus upon Bethpage State Park, in Farmingdale, New York, and the 102nd US Open that begins on Thursday. Traditionally the second in terms of the order in which they appear on the calendar of golf's four majors, it attracts the elite professionals and thereby captivates public attention.
This year, however, the venue, Bethpage's Black course, threatens to command as much interest as the trials and tribulations of Tiger Woods and his pals. It is not an exaggeration to suggest that Bethpage Black is the first truly public course to stage a US Open.
Two former Open sites, Pinehurst No 2 (1999) and Pebble Beach (2000), are technically open to any golfer, but both are privately owned and demand a serious financial commitment to tread their respective fairways. Those hoping to tee it up at Pebble Beach will pay $350 for the privilege, while Pinehurst No 2 costs $325 a round.
Bethpage State Park, home to five excellent quality golf courses (Black, Red, Green, Blue and Yellow), is owned by the state of New York. The parameters in which they operate are to make the courses accessible and affordable to the public: green fees are a paltry $31 midweek and $39 at weekends.
It is therefore hardly surprising given the amalgam of quality, the prestige of being the host venue for this year's US Open and the ridiculously low cost of playing there that access to the venue, particularly the Black course, is much sought after.
The stories of golfers' commitment/lunacy to try to secure a coveted tee-time are legion. Amazingly in the current climate, Bethpage adheres to strict rules regarding the allocation of tee-times: here money doesn't talk. They also operate a system where priority is given to New York natives.
Those from out of town or abroad must take their chances by either phoning or waiting in the "car line". Front office manager Susan Scolo, in charge of the 16-line telephone reservation system, confirmed that tee-times for the Black course regularly sell out in less than two minutes.
Bethpage conducted a telephone traffic survey on a Sunday night in May, 1998, and the phone company reported that there were 90,000 unanswered busy signals between 7.0 p.m. and 8.0 p.m. About 400 calls got through, and half of those were granted access to one of the five courses.
One New York native showed commendable perseverance, according to USA Today. Steve Weiss, chairman of the maths department at Roslyn High School, began dialling one recent Wednesday at 7.05 p.m. After hitting the number two button on his phone time and again to reject a tee-time on one of the other four courses, a slot of the Black suddenly materialised.
Without thinking Weiss fingered the key to cancel again for the umpteenth time. His brain suddenly registered what he had done and he quickly redialled, and was fortunate to reclaim the time. Another wannabe, 15-year-old Chris Conway, starts dialling at 6.55 p.m. most nights on two phones simultaneously, pressing the redial button until his thumbs go numb. He has played the Black course 10 times and his best score is 83.
The "car line", though, is where the self-styled diehards can be found. One regular observed of those who used the phone system: "We picture them at home, dialling from a big leather sofa with a remote in one hand and a glass of Grand Marnier on the table. They're wimps."
Those who court sleep deprivation, preferring to spend 48 hours in the same clothes without a shower, ensconced in the back of a truck/car with three buddies (given the conditions it appears advisable that they are close friends) don't seem in the least discommoded.
Every morning there is a line of vehicles parked near the clubhouse that serves all five courses, all having arrived in the hope of claiming the first six parking bays that will allow them one of the coveted daily fourballs on the Black course.
According to the Bethpage rules, the entire foursome must be seated in the vehicle when park ranger Micky Walsh materialises at about 5.0 a.m. to allocate the numbered bakery tickets and plastic wristbands to the first 24 golfers in line. Some latitude is afforded, in that in the run-up to the arrival of the ranger the vehicle may be occupied by just one person.
Anyone missing, though, at the appointed time can not play; no exceptions. An assistant professional at Bethpage learned the hard way recently. A friend parked in stall number three before 9.0 a.m. and then walked away. When the assistant pro returned hours later he found that he had been ejected from the line having been "shopped" by fellow golfers.
Long Island native Philip Young, in his book Golf for the People: Bethpage and the Black, offers this anecdote. "Hundreds of cars were lined up. One morning, two guys with duplicate numbered bakery tickets got into a fist-fight and were thrown in jail. Nobody in the line tried to break it up because they didn't want to lose their spots."
Of course there is one other way to play the Black, but there aren't too many people willing to rent the course for $100,000 plus fees for the day.
Since 1996, when the United States Golfing Association (USGA) decided upon Bethpage as a venue for this year's US Open, they have put $3.5 million into renovating the Black course originally designed by AW Tillinghast and first opened for play on May 30th, 1936. It was conceived as a work relief project during the Depression and affectionately referred to as The People's Country Club.
Tillinghast, born into a well-to-do Philadelphia family in 1874, stumbled into golf course architecture at 32, went on to create some of the best courses in the American northeast, notably Winged Foot (New York), Baltusrol (New Jersey) and Five Farms (Maryland), before taking up a position of editor of Golf Illustrated. He died in 1942 at the age of 67.
The USGA prevailed upon architect Rees Jones, who has restored six US Open courses, including Pinehurst No 2 and Congressional, to restore the Black course to its original layout and conditioning. To achieve this, Jones viewed aerial photographs from 1938, and rebuilt every bunker except one.
Over a million feet of sod - about 30 acres - was laid and about 9,000 tonnes of sand added to the bunkers, which is three times what most courses use. A further $13 million, $12 million coming from two entrepreneurs, was invested into improving the clubhouse, catering facilities, pro shop, driving range and cart barn.
It now bears all the appearance of the most salubrious country club yet eschews the attendant preciousness. Golfers can play in jeans, T-shirts, tank tops, have long hair or no hair, wear earrings or nose studs, and can even demand the gourmet hot dog on the lunch menu at $4.95.
This week, though, the cars have been absent in the parking lot, the phone lines relatively quiet as Woods and the world elite descend on the of the 1,450 acres of Bethpage State Park. It represents the longest course in the history of the US Open, the full yard longer than Congressional which staged the 1997 equivalent.
Still, the good 'ol boys who will form the queues next week, or risk RSI at their phones as they chase that tee-time on the Black course, will be secure in the knowledge that Bethpage doesn't pander to the elite.
Those who pay their green fees and opt for the back sticks will play a longer course than the professionals will attempt this week, 167 yards longer. A bit like Bethpage; first among equals.
