A short and brutish course

No one man can change a game, which is why it would be unfair to point the finger at Tiger Woods and blame him solely for the way those associated with courses which play host to major championships have tweaked and altered holes, the so-called "tiger-proofing" effect.

They've all done it. Augusta National. St Andrews. Most recently, Southern Hills.

In truth, though, it is the changes in equipment - principally drivers and balls - that are responsible for the huge distances players on the two main tours are hitting the ball these days. The number of players on the US Tour who are driving the ball over 280 yards has increased from 10 players to 45 since 1996; and an even more dramatic rise in Europe has seen the numbers rise from seven to 84.

And, yet, such monster hitting alone won't win this week's British Open at Royal Lytham & St Annes. Here, more than on any other course on the rota, we are back to basics. It has the reputation for being one of the quirkiest courses in championship golf - anywhere in the world - and, last week, in persuading Loren Roberts to make the trip, Tom Lehman explained: "Length is not a factor. It does not matter how short you are. It is not a bomber's course - unlike St Andrews, where you can take all the trouble out of play if you can hit it 300 yards."

Unlike other courses that have succumbed to the big-hitting modern players by making serious alterations, Lytham knows its place and appears content not to make changes just for the sake of it.

In the official R&A media guide, no less, it is stated: "Golfers who have visited Royal Lytham & St Annes will be well aware that it has no claim to be the most attractive course on the Open Championship rota. It has none of the visual appeal of Birkdale or Turnberry and less historic significance than St Andrews or Muirfield; but what it lacks in those departments it more than makes up for by the fact that it is an outstanding test of golf".

So any tweaking which has taken place has been kept to a minimum. Although the R&A has been anxious not to alter the nature of the course, there have been some adjustments made since it last staged the British Open in 1996, when Paul McGinley had a hole-in-one at the ninth in his second round on the way to sharing the midway lead with eventual winner Lehman.

The changes, however, haven't been too drastic and certainly don't compare with, say, Augusta's stated intentions to lengthen their par fours even further. A couple of notable alterations have been made to the first and 11th greens. Some trees have been removed along the left of the first hole (it is the only course on the championship rota to begin with a par three), while the approach shot to the 11th has also changed with the pruning of shrubs on the left-hand side of the fairway.

Also, most of the trees surrounding that green have been removed to improve light - but the removal of the natural windbreak should ensure club selection, on windy days, will be more critical than ever.

New bunkers have also been created on the left of the seventh and to the right of the 17th, while some 70 bunkers - of the course's 190 sand traps - have been renovated with new revetting which should help make the course play harder, but not longer.

Lytham's aesthetics may not compare with other venues - being a mile in from the coastline with a busy train line running by the opening couple of holes as a backdrop rather than the Irish Sea and redbrick houses intruding frequently into the view of golfers - but it does produce quality winners.

It has staged nine British Opens and the winners have included legends starting with Bobby Jones in 1926 and going on to include Bobby Locke (1952), Peter Thomson (1958), Bob Charles (1963), Tony Jacklin (1969), Gary Player (1974), Seve Ballesteros (1979 and 1988), and Lehman (1996).

So, what is it about Lytham that manages to produce such quality winners? Henry Cotton, for one, was adamant that it was the shape of Lytham's greens that made the course so difficult for all but the best players.

"It's chief defence," he argued, "is that its greens don't collect the ball. On the contrary, except for the odd bank on the green, as at the 18th, the greens are shaped in such a way that the ball, if not properly struck for direction or distance, or if struck with some spin, tends to run off the green all the time, and I consider that to be the main defence of the course."

Not much has changed since Cotton's days, and those demands still exist for modern players. As the late Peter Dobereiner wrote in the run-up to the last British Open at Lytham in 1996, "it is not a lovable course on first acquaintance. Or the second. Or third. It does grow on you in time, but even the visitor would probably express his feelings in terms of admiration and respect rather than affection."

Apart from avoiding the bunkers, which almost goes without saying for someone with a keen eye on the claret jug, Nick Price - who was runner-up to Ballesteros in 1988 - believes that "the real secret to Lytham is to make a good score going out, then hold it coming in."

The Zimbabwean was referring to a finishing stretch of holes from the 14th hole - which was the hardest hole in the 1988 British Open - to the clubhouse that are often described as "brutish". Indeed, in Lehman's year of victory, the 17th turned out to be the toughest hole on the course.

And, traditionally, the 18th is a hole that demands a steady nerve and extreme accuracy off the tee. As the legendary writer Pat Ward Thomas once observed: "It is not much of a target for a driver when the ambition of a lifetime is in sight." And, indeed, little has changed on that final hole where the player needs to thread his tee-shot through two angled rows of bunkers.

All of which means that Lytham, with its own eccentricities, or maybe despite them, invariably manages to produce a champion of merit. With no premium on big-hitting, it is a course where modern equipment design has arguably had the least effect of all, which is why there has been no rush to make real changes to a course that has produced worthy winners since makings its way onto the rota in 1926.

"It is the kind of course where being in the fairway really means a lot," remarked Lehman.

And Thomson, whose win here in 1958 was one of five British Open successes, stated: "Lytham is, for my money, the strictest test of a golfer's ability on the (British) Open championship roster. It is a veritable torture route from start to finish."