Parked On Its Bones.
Updated: Oct 15
"The Park", what a name for a golf course. Confusing but inviting. You hear a name like The Park and wonder what could be made with such an odd name. I've never had a bad time in a park, but I have been mugged, so hopefully it's not that bad. The last course wasn't that bad either.
When I first moved here locally 15 odd years ago, the West Palm Golf Course was the cheapest tee time in town. It had history, but it was hard to find. The original clubhouse had burned down in the early 2000s, leaving a sad prefab trailer with a small sign in its place.
Built in 1947 by the legendary golf architect Dick Wilson, it held several small early PGA tournaments. It was even played by the great Arnold Palmer himself. The course wove its way through hills of sand, with the sound of I-95 in the distance, almost like a waterfall, with the occasional truck brake noise and car horn.
The course was very open, with tricky all-sand waste areas lined every fairway. I needed to play a colored golf ball because the white sand of the waste areas made it that much harder to find; my golf then was nothing short of erratic. The baking of my skin in the hot sun provided the crucible I needed to earn my stripes as a golfer.
When I heard they were closing, I was devastated. Where would I fight the local raccoon community now? Where would I find greens that looked more like my weed-infested yard than a golf course? By that time, the course was on its deathbed, and all the regulars knew it.
After the closure, several community meetings were held. Talks of a community of McMansions were proposed, but the community demanded otherwise. A golf course would remain as it had always been, there to serve the community.
The new course to be built, designed by Gil Hanse and Jim Wagner, was exciting. These two men are the premier designers of my lifetime, and they decided to design the course for free, a gift to the local community. They were building something great, but would I ever be able to afford it? That was the question.
After its opening, I went over a few times, played the lighted par 3 course and hit the range, something the original never had. But the prices were exorbitant, a king’s ransom for 18 holes. This was not for the likes of the local community. This was for the wealthy who could afford a $200 tee time on the weekday and $300 on the weekend.
Eventually, on a scorching summer day, I did play the course.
As I played, I noticed that it kept what was great about the old but added the dramatic framing of the new. It was so open that I actually played the wrong hole by accident. My parkland golf mind thought the hole would always be in front of me, and only when my playing partners yelled for me did I realize my mistake.
The holes rise and fall with the landscape. Large banyan trees dot the property, as they did before, but the intense scrub that surrounded the fairways had been manicured, tamed by the mighty bulldozer.
The grass was pristine. Fairways reminiscent of a carpet laid over sand in every direction, allowing the bumps and valleys to remain, as if a green blanket was dropped from a helicopter.
The greens were tough, the stimp at 14. The previous day had been the final of the NCAA individual championship, and it hadn’t rained in over two weeks. The fairways were a contrasting green and tan, showing just how dry it had been. A low shot would run for what seemed like forever.
That was my game. Stay low, run it up, and pray to God for a two-putt.
The afternoon sun was so hot and managed to cook me and my poor wife, walking with me, unaware that she was pregnant at the time. Later that day, I would find out I was going to be a future father.
By the end of 18, I was ready for a bath and a nap, something all of us wish for after walking 18 in 95-degree heat with high humidity. After the round, my life changed dramatically, for what my wife thought was a stomach bug would eventually become our daughter.
I can confidently say that The Park is a fitting replacement for the old West Palm Golf Course. The sunsets remain the best in the area. The old sign on the highway still says West Palm Golf, but it is crossed out with spray paint and replaced with the name Park.
It’s nice to know they admire what came before, but loudly embrace the future.
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