You Haven't Played Golf

Why true links golf is the best golf

I’ve played thousands of rounds of golf in my life. Some years, I played over a hundred times. And yet, if I’m being honest, I’ve only played about nine golf courses.

Not because I haven’t traveled. Not because I don’t love the game. But because almost everything I’ve played—almost everything most of us have played—isn’t actually golf. It’s a softened imitation. A version of the game designed for repetition, not revelation.

Here’s my belief:

If you haven’t played links golf, you haven’t played golf.

The Great Mistake

The modern game is obsessed with “fairness,” precision, and control. Sprinkler heads with numbers. Greens that hold a wedge like Velcro. Green reading books that reduce holes to equations.

We’ve built golf courses like they’re meant to be solved. But real golf was never meant to be solved. It was meant to be felt. The game isn’t meant to be fair.

Real golf happens when the ball moves along the ground, when the wind changes your mind, when the bounce breaks your heart—or saves your round.

That’s links golf. That’s the game the way it began.

And the truth is: most golfers—especially in America—have never seen it.

What Is Links Golf?

It’s not “links-style.” That’s a lie the marketing department told you.

A true links course is built on sandy soil, near the sea, with no trees and no irrigation. The ground is firm. The wind is constant. The bounce is unpredictable. And the ball runs.

You play the land—not just the yardage.

There’s no “target zone.” No forced carry to an island gree in the desert. No overwatered fairways trying to mimic Augusta. Everything you see was already there.

That’s what makes it real.

The Only Nine That Count

I’d argue that I’ve only played nine courses that fit this description. Here they are:

Royal County Down – Still the purest course I’ve ever walked. Blind shots, honest movement, and the best routing on earth.

Royal Portrush – A masterpiece of restraint. The kind of course that teaches you something without speaking.

Portstewart (Strand) – The front nine might be the most visually stunning golf I’ve ever played. And every bounce counts.

Pacific Dunes – Tom Doak let the ground shape the strategy. It’s not showy. It’s smart.

Old Macdonald – A thinking man’s course. Wide, windy, and wonderfully weird.

Bandon Dunes – The original. Still one of the most soulful walks in American golf.

Sheep Ranch – No bunkers. Just wind, width, and decision-making. A reminder that minimalism is a design principle, not a trend.

Bandon Preserve – Short but serious. Every hole asks a different question.

Pacific Grove (Back Nine) – A muni. $40 to walk. Ocean views, sandy ground, and more authenticity than most $500 rounds.

I’ve played some of these more than once. Because when the land is honest, it always gives you something new.

What the Others Got Wrong

Modern courses are often too much: too green, too soft, too controlled. Fairways that don’t run. Greens that stop everything. Trees that define strategy instead of space.

They offer comfort over clarity. They let you repeat rather than respond. You can play the same course a hundred times and never really learn anything new.

On a true links course, no two rounds are ever the same.

Because the ground is alive. The wind is real. The outcomes are uncertain.

And that’s the whole point.

What If You Can’t Get to Links?

You don’t need to fly to Northern Ireland to get closer to the real thing.

You can start by changing how you play:

Putt from off the green

Use the ground instead of forcing the ball in the air

Look for firm conditions—call ahead, play when it hasn’t rained

Walk—feel the slopes under your feet

Choose clubs for control, not just distance

Even on the wrong course, you can play the right way.

Why This Matters

Because golf isn’t a game of perfect swings. It’s a game of imperfect bounces.

The best rounds I’ve played weren’t the ones I scored well—they were the ones where I was most connected to the land. When I felt like I wasn’t playing on the course, I was playing with it. A golf course should be hard when the wind is up and howling.

Golf is a conversation between player and terrain. And if the course doesn’t speak back—if it’s been shaped, softened, or silenced—then what are we really playing?

That’s why I only count nine.

The rest were fun. Pleasant. Even beautiful.

But they weren’t golf.

Until Next Thursday,

Jeff

For a great podcast check this out: Mike Clayton on No Laying Up. In my opinion Mike is the world’s greatest mind when it comes to what makes a good vs bad golf course. Playing a round with him last year was one of my favorite things I’ve ever done in the sport.

Next Thurs: we’re back to youtube recs. Look out for a special Tues edition too