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| June 2007 |
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The nature of the game
During a recent business trip to Minnesota from my home in Colorado, I picked up a copy of the fall 2006 issue of Golf Views Magazine — about golfing here in the Centennial State — to read on the airplane. As I flipped through the pages, I noticed a trend. Of the nine full-page color ads for golf courses, eight were named for local wildlife. Heritage Eagle Bend. Cougar Canyon. Bear Dance. Buffalo Run. Fox Hollow. Raven at Three Peaks. The cynical side of me thought of an oft-cited quote about suburban sprawl: Suburbia is a place where we cut down the trees and then name the streets after them. Could that be what’s happening on golf courses in Colorado and across the country? We alter the landscape, push the wildlife off the land, and then name our golf courses after those same species? Before you stop reading and write me off as a preachy environmental evangelist, know that I believe the answer to those questions is, “No.” As a sometimes golfer and former ecologist for the Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary Program for Golf Courses, I’ve seen the game from both sides of the environmental fence, both as a golfer and as an environmentalist. If I’ve learned one thing from those experiences, it’s that golf courses can be “green” in more ways than one. When I look to those wildlife-named golf courses from Golf Views Magazine, I see a testament to golf’s deep roots in nature and the environment. “Nature has chosen its course. Follow her lead,” proclaimed one ad. Another ad, showing a picture of an elk walking across a green, exclaimed, “Sometimes the wait is worth the views!” Yet another offered, “This is what nature did with Colorado. Wait ’til you see what Nicklaus Design has done with it.” In this case, the implication is not that Nicklaus Design would alter the landscape beyond recognition, but rather that ND would integrate a golf course into a dramatic landscape that offers golfers an unparalleled natural experience. No one wants to golf at “Superfund Greens,” or “Industrial Wasteland Golf Course.” Golf is about an experience with nature, plain and simple. It’s a legacy that today’s superintendents inherit from the earliest days of Saint Andrews. That burden — or privilege — rests not only with superintendents, though, but with all of us who interact with the game; as golfers, as industry professionals, or in my case today, as a writer. Our task is to uphold the sport’s legacy, its roots, its traditional values. But more than that, for superintendents, it’s something of which they should be rightfully proud. For decades, golf courses have been one of the environmental community’s favorite whipping boys. In recent years, that attitude has been changing as golf courses and environmentalists reconcile in a growing appreciation for the superintendent as “environmental steward.” And although the reconciliation is recent, the role of “environmental steward” is hardly new, going back to the very core and the very beginning of the profession — it’s the nature of the game. For that, superintendents, you should hold your heads high.
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