In an era when professional golf has been clouded by money wars and tour-hopping drama, the sport could use a wake-up call—something humbling, something brutal. Enter Oakmont Country Club.
This week, as the US Open returns to one of the game’s most unforgiving venues, egos are about to get checked at the door.
Nicknamed “The Beast” by its elite-paying members (yes, the ones who forked over £150,000 just to join), Oakmont isn’t a course that forgives. It’s a course that punishes.
Designed to Be Feared, Not Fair
Bryson DeChambeau didn’t sugarcoat it when he said, “It wasn’t designed to be fair; it was designed to be feared.”
That’s exactly the vision Henry Fownes had back in 1903 when he crafted this devilish test of golf.
His one-hit-wonder of a course came with a simple philosophy: bad shots deserve to be lost forever. A century later, that twisted dream lives on.
Even Adam Scott, a seasoned Masters champ, couldn’t tame it during a practice round.
He hit every fairway on the front nine and still ended up three over.
Rory McIlroy, after making a mess of the infamous eighth hole—a nearly 300-yard par three—was met with a member’s comforting comment about Johnny Miller’s 1973 record round.
McIlroy’s deadpan response? “That’s great. Did he make a seven on No 2 as well?”
Welcome to the US Open’s Version of Entertainment
If you think the US Open is supposed to be a gentle stroll through manicured fairways, Oakmont is here to shatter that illusion.
The tournament prides itself on watching the world’s best unravel on live television—and Oakmont is the perfect stage.
English golfer Jordan Smith summed it up best: “They like to make it tough and watch us have a disaster live on TV. That’s what people want to see.”
After a few years of power grabs and cash grabs in the world of pro golf, maybe this brutal honesty is exactly what the sport needs.
Only the Best Survive Here
The resume of Oakmont champions reads like golf’s Hall of Fame: Jack Nicklaus, Ben Hogan, Tommy Armour, Larry Nelson, Ernie Els, and Dustin Johnson.
Even Tiger Woods couldn’t crack it—he only shot par or better once during the 2007 US Open and still came second.
The point? If you win here, you’ve earned it the hard way.
A Brutal Layout in Disguise
Visually, Oakmont might seem a little friendlier than it actually is. It doesn’t have water hazards.
It barely has trees. But don’t be fooled—this is an optical illusion of comfort.
The greens are lightning-fast, even quicker than Augusta National.
Sam Snead once joked he couldn’t mark his ball because his coin wouldn’t stop sliding.
The fairways are narrow, the wind is relentless, and the bunkers—around 200 of them—are soul-crushing. And let’s not even talk about the five-inch thick rough.
Balls vanish. Hope disappears. It’s golf’s version of survival mode.
Who Can Handle This Monster?
Rory McIlroy’s US Open form is strong—six top-10s in a row, two runner-up finishes.
But the last time the tournament was held here in 2016? He missed the cut.
If his driver isn’t dialled in, he’ll be in for a long week.
Scottie Scheffler is riding red-hot momentum with three wins in four starts, while Bryson DeChambeau, with two US Open titles already, recently called Oakmont “the world’s hardest course.”
His follow-up line? “It doesn’t just challenge your game – it challenges your sanity.”
Lost Minds and Legendary Meltdowns
Oakmont doesn’t just beat players—it breaks them. Colin Montgomerie knows that all too well.
In a 1994 playoff against Ernie Els, he went eight over through the first 11 holes, wrecked by the iconic “church pew” bunkers and brutal greens.
But this course has history, too. In 1937, a player in the national collegiate final hit five balls out of bounds on the first hole and just walked off the course.
Then there’s the story of Phil Rodgers getting stuck up a tree on 17 in 1962.
Or Tommy Armour’s alleged 23 on a single hole at the Shawnee Open just days after winning here.
Even the Amateurs Get Humbled
Mail Sport once sent a staffer to play Oakmont before the 2016 US Open. He shot 120—off a 16 handicap.
Every wayward swing seemed to honor Fownes’s old wish: bad shots deserve no forgiveness.
What Makes Oakmont So Perfect for the US Open?
It’s not just the difficulty—it’s the psychological warfare.
At a time when golf needs less flash and more grit, Oakmont forces players to focus, adapt, and suffer.
It doesn’t favor the longest hitter or the flashiest iron play. It rewards survival.
And when the dust settles next Sunday, don’t be surprised if the winner looks more relieved than elated.