The Other St. George’s Shines Just as Brightly
STONY BROOK, NY – Never have I been so grateful that one of my friends has no sense of direction, because his colossal blunder in geography led me to one of the best courses I have played in my life: St. George’s Golf and Country Club.
No, not that St. Georges, the other St. George’s, the one near Stony Brook, Long Island, not the British Open venue in southern England. But now that the confusion is cleared up, take heart, because this is unquestionably one of the best courses you’ve never heard of, but must see.
I told my friend Mike – not only a lifelong player and a fan of excellent architecture, but a Good Friend of Golf – that I was writing a series of articles on the private clubs in the Five Towns area of Long Island, near New York City. He’s particularly well-travelled and when he recommends a course, he’s usually spot on.
But he’s new to New York City, a recent transplant from South Carolina. It showed in this exchange:
“You need to see St. George’s, a 1917 Devereux Emmet design that Gil Hanse perfectly restored. It’d be a great course for you to write about!” he said excitedly.
“Well, that’s great, but I’m right in the middle of writing a series of pieces on the Five Towns clubs of Long Island,” I replied.
“It might be perfect for your series,” he countered. “It’s not far out on Long Island.”
“Is it near the Five Towns?”
“It’s near the Five Towns,” he answered in a voice that gave the impression that he wanted to end the sentence with “I think…”
That should have given me enough warning to…you know…look at a map before booking my round there! But I was busy – complex entertainment and intellectual law practice to manage, family to care for, stack of golf articles that won’t write themselves, high maintenance girl to wine-and-dine, chumps-lunkheads-and-dingbats to keep at bay – you know how life in NYC is. But I had my clubs and my Long Island Railroad ticket and my friend’s rough guess that Stony Brook was near the Five Towns. What else did I really need?
It’s only when I was five minutes from boarding the train that I noticed that St. George’s is near the Five Towns like Pittsburgh is near Philly. Two-and-a-half hours and three train changes later…
My friend got confused. It’s actually somewhat near the Three Villages of Long Island instead, but all mis-directions should turn out this well, because St. George’s isn’t just a hidden gem. It’s a Silmaril, a jewel that burns with the light of stars, a beacon of light shining brightly to illuminate the absolute best principles of golf design. As expected, the way back to great strategic principles and shaping/construction of the Golden Age should be the way forward into the 21st century and beyond.
From the beginning you can tell St. George’s old school design concepts make it vastly superior and far more fun than modern penal architecture layouts by name-brand designers. Like the U.K. links whose style it emulates, it’s an asymmetric out-and-back routing. The tired, hackneyed “doctrine of symmetry” (where you MUST have two par-3s and two par-5s on each loop of nine) was not forced upon the golf course. Instead, Emmet found the best natural features on the land and designed the holes to play right into their teeth, making for thrilling golf. Some shots play softly uphill, some cascade thrillingly downhill, but at all times, the golfer is captivated and entranced.
The 6,230 yards course plays about 350 yards longer because it’s a par-70, not 72, but never feels overly long. There are no brutish par-4s that devolve into boring driver-3-wood-wedge affairs. Instead, the golf must carefully think his way around the course to avoid cunning cross-hazards, fearsome false fronts at many greens, and deep ubiquitous bunkers. The greens are tiny, but fiendishly contoured and canted. There are few trees, so the wind whips viciously across the plain, making a mockery of the yardages on the card.
Speaking of the card, the par sequence is refreshingly unique. There is no rhyme, reason, or rhythm to the routing other than Devereux Emmet’s accurate reflection – not interpretation – of what the land gave him. There are no par-3s in the first six holes (4-5-4-4-4-5) then four in the next nine holes (3-4-3-4-3-4-4-4-3) before the magnificent 4-3-5 finish.
St. George’s is the kind of golf course that makes you both feel like and wish that the rest of the World bubble away into nothing ness and it’s you and the course and the end of the world and all you need in life is your clubs, the holes, and golf balls. If I had a futon, my iPod, and unlimited sushi and juice, I could live on the third through sixth holes with a sojourn to 12-17 for the rest of my life. Frequently, my girl could come to visit. It’s that good, like “the best of Dire Straits and Paul McCartney combined” good. And you know there are courses that good. That’s why you play golf in the first place.
