SOUTHAMPTON, New York — Every U.S. Open acquires an identity, and the United States Golf Association always hopes it is for the right reason.
Ideally, that identity is forged by an iconic shot. Shinnecock Hills Golf Club in 1995 is inseparable from the video of Corey Pavin’s majestic 4-wood on the final hole from 228 yards out to secure the win, famously accompanied by Johnny Miller’s television call: “Shot of a lifetime.” Pebble Beach in 1982 is forever associated with Tom Watson’s chip-in at the 17th green. Those are far better memories than the scenes of blustering wind that nearly brought the course to its knees when Tom Kite won in 1992.
A CHARACTER TEST
Then there is 2026 at Shinnecock Hills. Will it go into the memory banks for the crowd jeering eventual winner Wyndham Clark?
U.S. Open history buffs are searching their memories for anything analogous. Colin Montgomerie always faced hostile American galleries. Sergio Garcia ran up against a mocking Long Island crowd in 2002 at Bethpage Black when he teed off Sunday in the final group, only to fade out of contention. But those were “away games” on foreign soil, much like Brian Harman experienced at Hoylake during the 2023 Open Championship. While that context does not excuse boorish fan behavior, golf has never quite seen anything like the “home game” hostility Clark faced in the Hamptons.
Maybe it is just a Long Island thing, though it certainly did not match the caustic invective the European Ryder Cup team faced 60 miles west at Bethpage last September. Given what he sees as a regional propensity for spectator nastiness, Golfweek and Golf Channel commentator Eamon Lynch has called for the PGA of America to cancel plans to hold the PGA Championship at Bethpage Black in 2033.
It is easy to figure out what triggered the crowd’s animus this time, if not the degree of it. Clark trashed a mesh locker at storied Oakmont Country Club after the U.S. Open there, and his belated apology felt insincere. He then compounded his alienation from the fan base by suggesting he favored a more exclusive PGA Tour system that would shut out second-tier players.
Still, by the time spectators at Shinnecock began booing Clark for missed shots that rolled back to his feet or ended up in bunkers, he had become an almost sympathetic figure. Now that he has begun a social media redemption campaign showing evidence of authentic humility, he has a decent chance of turning around public sentiment.
COURSE MANAGEMENT
All week, the talk among observers and players was whether the USGA could keep the course under control in the face of a dicey weather forecast. In 2004, the course got out of hand over the weekend thanks to searing wind, desiccated ground and a breakdown in communication between the USGA agronomy team and the club’s maintenance crew. Matters came uncomfortably close to repeating that scenario in 2018.
This time around, everyone was prepared. The USGA deliberately engineered a setup that eased into competitive conditions rather than presenting a brutal test from the first practice rounds. The cautious approach involved coordinating with veteran superintendent Jon Jennings, a Certified Golf Course Superintendent, to present greens and fairways adequately stocked with moisture to absorb the anticipated winds of the first two rounds. Green speeds were kept moderate, around 10.5 on the Stimpmeter, rather than the standard 11.5 to 12 targeted in the previous two U.S. Opens here.
The USGA even communicated this strategy via mid-tournament memos to players, which felt like a step too far in coddling the field. It was a clear expression of the modern relationship between the governing body and PGA Tour players, who are accommodated to a degree that would have been unrecognizable a generation or two ago.
The important point is that the cautious setup worked — arguably too well. Purists could rightly complain that golf at Shinnecock Hills was no crucible of hellfire, not with a tournament average score of 72.7 on the par-70 layout. That sits markedly lower than the field averages in 1986 (73.56), 1995 (73.34), 2004 (74.46) and 2018 (74.65).
THE GOLF COURSE
During a pre-tournament press conference, USGA CEO Mike Whan and chief championships officer John Bodenhamer emphasized the “cathedral-like” quality of the venue. “Let Shinnecock be Shinnecock,” they chanted. By that, they meant the USGA was not going to narrow the fairways by 20% as it did in the run-up to 2018.
The width and firmness of the fairways gave tee shots plenty of run, often bringing fairway bunkers much more into play. So too did the knee-high native rough areas comprising fescue grasses, sedge and bluestem. Even with tight-cut landing areas widened to an average of 48 yards across, the percentage of fairways hit was identical to 2018: 71.3%.
Interestingly, average driving distance was way up, well above prevailing PGA Tour averages. In 2018, drives at Shinnecock Hills averaged 293.6 yards — 2.5 yards under the tour average at the time. In 2026, the average drive went 315.9 yards, which is 11.2 yards over prevailing tour data. Of the players who made the cut, all but one averaged 300-plus yards.
The combination of greater distance off the tee and more receptive, slower greens produced a considerable increase in greens in regulation: 64% for 2026, compared to 54% in 2018.
This increased impact of distance poses tough questions for the USGA’s decision — oddly announced during the week of the U.S. Open — to delay implementation of an overall distance restriction on the golf ball by two years, pushing it back to 2030. Making that announcement at Shinnecock Hills felt strange. The evidence all around confirmed the USGA’s own 2020 Distance Insights Report, which was supposed to promulgate decisive action limiting the ball: distance off the tee matters disproportionately over other shotmaking skills.
THE HAMPTONS
Shinnecock Hills occupies sacred golf ground, sharing property lines with iconic neighbors like National Golf Links of America, Southampton Golf Club and Sebonack. But the ultra-private, upscale Hamptons of Long Island’s South Shore is a logistically terrible place for a major sporting event that draws 35,000 spectators a day.
To their credit, organizers scaled back this year’s daily ticket allotment by 5,000. They wanted a less crowded event to ensure Shinnecock’s native open areas survived the trampling. If that meant increased ticket prices to compensate for smaller gates, this is an economy that easily absorbs the upcharge; day tickets secured through the USGA hub went for $289.
But local traffic is normally unbearable even without a golf tournament. The daily trade parade of plumbers, carpenters and glaziers heading east from mid-island produces a miles-long, hour-consuming traffic delay every workday morning just to cross the narrow Shinnecock Canal. Getting out is the same nightmare. No wonder fans bailed early on Saturday, leaving the golf course virtually empty by the time Clark made a brilliant eagle on the 16th hole.
The Hamptons is for Hamptonians. Local developers seem not to have built a hotel out there in decades. It remains a magnificent place to play golf, but a terrible place to spectate. That reality, more than the crowd’s jeering, might give the USGA pause regarding its long-term plans to hold the U.S. Open and U.S. Women's Open back-to-back at Shinnecock Hills in 2036. It is a legendary golf course, but a problematic place to stage a major sports entertainment event.
