It's a gorgeous, colorful place, a golf course of natural beauty that defies labels.
It's practically treeless and the wind can blow in any direction on the golden fescue-lined fairways, but don't call it links golf: It's not on a coastline, and the best approach shots will soar high and land soft.
"It's not heathland, it's not parkland, it's not linksland," Andy Ziegler said as he strolled from the 18th tee on a recent morning. "It's what it is. It's Erin Hills."
Ziegler owns the place. He purchased Erin Hills in 2009 for $10.5 million because it was a distressed property in danger of losing the 2011 U.S. Amateur, a blow he said "would have been a big embarrassment" for both golf and the state of Wisconsin.
The U.S. Amateur went smoothly, cementing Erin Hills as the destination for the 2017 U.S. Open. With the 2016 majors complete, golf's attention will soon turn to a course that did not even exist until 2006, a venue that will be Wisconsin's first to host a U.S. Open.
The event represents a chance for Chicago-area golf fans to drive to a U.S. Open for the first time since Olympia Fields hosted in 2003. And a chance for the USGA to end a losing streak marked by foolishness and carelessness.
A year ago, USGA officials were so consumed with water conservation and firm conditions, they allowed some greens at Chambers Bay to dry out and die. The Seattle-area course also was brutal for spectators, who were blocked from walking from the first tee to the first green.
In June at Oakmont, a rules fiasco involving Dustin Johnson led to widespread mockery by the media, public and players. "Amateur hour from [at sign]USGA," Rory McIlroy tweeted.
Then at the U.S. Women's Open, USGA President Diana Murphy misfired on champion Brittany Lang's name, repeatedly calling her "Bethany" during the trophy presentation. An embarrassed Murphy apologized, but it was another double bogey for an organization obsessed with protecting par.
In late June, a USGA contingent led by executive director Mike Davis spent two days at the Erin Hills property 35 miles west of Milwaukee, grinding over tee box options, potential hole locations and minute details.
"We have (fescue) islands in some of our bunkers," Ziegler recalled. "I stood there for 20 minutes as they debated whether they should be cut to one inch or 1\ inch."
What did they decide?
"I think they're still talking it over coffee right now," Ziegler joked.
I shared my concern with Ziegler: What if the USGA does it again? And by "it," I mean find a way to mar its own 122-year-old championship.
"No, no," Ziegler replied. "We get to be in the room with them."
Here's what he means. Sometimes there's an adversarial relationship between USGA officials and the host club. Olympia Fields members are still steamed that the USGA cut down the rough on the eve of the '03 Open, leading to record-low scores. Some Oakmont members wished the USGA hadn't watered the fairways overnight in June so more balls would have found the thick rough.
Erin Hills has no members; it's a public course with a $265 green fee. Its lone decision-maker is Ziegler.
Erin Hills' literature refers to a "unique partnership with the USGA" _ and there are countless examples.
Davis wanted a new tee box on the par-3 16th to create a semi-blind tee shot; he got it. He also got his wish for a tree removal near the first green, an expanded second green, a longer third hole, new tee boxes on No. 17 and shrinking No. 10 to a par-4.
"(Course architect) Dana Fry and I redesigned (No. 10) with Mike Davis standing right there," Ziegler said.
But Ziegler has not acquiesced on everything. The 14th hole is a par-5 that can be played anywhere from 438 to 613 yards. Davis wants players who miss the green short and right to pay a price as steep as the shaved-down bank that deposits balls into an existing trout stream.
Davis wanted to add a pond, but Ziegler rebuffed him. I'm thankful for it: My approach shot stayed dry.
One additional good sign is that Ziegler won't be offended if the winner shoots a healthy number under par. After all, did anyone ask for a refund after watching Henrik Stenson beat Phil Mickelson at Royal Troon by shooting 20 under?
"There's so much flexibility here," Ziegler said of a course that could stretch past 7,800 yards. "If Mike wanted to set it up where no one could break 80, he could. If he wanted to set it up for someone to shoot 62, he could do that too."
How about this: Set it up to showcase the game's best players _ and perhaps the prettiest course in the Midwest.
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