From the bunker at the U.S. Open

By Greg Girard

Well, after too many years of hype to count, the U.S. Open has come and gone. Like Noah before the flood, the area was percolating with anticipation and, now that it’s gone, there’s a vast, satisfying exhale and a little bit of relief. 

Our community really brought this one home and aside from the golf cart driver that got arrested for running over a state trooper’s foot and then attempted to flee the scene, I think we represented Pinehurst and the surrounding communities with aplomb. 

Taking advantage of a media credential, I had the chance to go behind-the-scenes throughout the week. Here’s a few thoughts:

a. Golf fans alone must keep the khaki shorts/polo shirt industry in the black.

b. Credentials and access felt a little more elitist than other sporting events. Access to certain tents and special areas depended entirely on the marks on your badge. Those allowed into the clubhouse or Putter Boy Pavilion had a distinct swagger to their walk. It felt a little like the first class curtain being drawn on an airplane. Peasants and serfs to the left please … and don’t look at me.  

c. You can’t really appreciate the beauty of the course until you get on it. It’s fantastic and a true challenge for the best players in the world. 

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