At Winged Foot a year ago, the average score for the 436 rounds played in the U.S. Open Championship was 74.99 — .01 of a shot short of five over par. In the first round, the 155-man field returned a mean 75.98 — mean as in “average,” of course, not as in “good” — with only one man, Colin Montgomerie, breaking 70. The cut fell at 150, 10-over, with the best player in the world going home early following two rounds of 76. Certainly, Tiger Woods was rusty after a nine-week absence from the game due to his father’s worsening health and subsequent death on May 3, but still, his practice round partners said there was no rust in his game.

Geoff Ogilvy’s winning score of five-over was the highest at a major since the 1999 British Open at Carnoustie, when eventual champion Paul Lawrie beat Justin Leonard and Jean Van De Velde in a playoff after the trio had tied at six-over, and the highest at the U.S. Open since Hale Irwin’s seven-over, also at Winged Foot, 32 years previously. There were just 12 sub-par rounds in 2006 and the lowest score anyone managed was 68, which David Duval and Arron Oberholser both recorded on Friday.

Last week, Woods made his second reconnaissance mission to Oakmont, hosting its eighth U.S. Open, and came away saying it was probably the toughest U.S. Open venue he has ever seen. Yesterday morning, Padraig Harrington spoke of never once being able to relax and the need to give each hole total respect. He added that Oakmont makes Winged Foot look pleasant and that if he was offered four 72s he’d take them.

Pleasant!? Eight over par!?

Oakmont, the course as opposed to the club, has always “enjoyed” a reputation for being less than welcoming, and the members apparently love it when a guest goes home dazed, confused, and bewildered at the sight of his scorecard. An early and unapologetic member of the penal school of golf course architecture that sought to identify the best golfers by wiping out less able players with a series of hazards so severe that even a slightly errant shot would inevitably lead to doom, it was built in 1903–04 by Henry C. Fownes, a Pittsburgh businessman with interests in steel, iron, and banking.

The course evolved into one of the country’s most difficult course with input from its founder, his son William, and Emil Loeffler — superintendent from 1916 to 1948 — who started raking two-inch wide furrows in the sand in 1922 to make the somewhat flat, shallow bunkers genuine hazards and thus pile on the grief for wayward golfers.

The furrows may be gone, but Oakmont remains a fearsome test and now stretches to 7,230 yards (second longest in the championship’s history) — 283 yards longer than it was in 1994, the last time the U.S. Open came to town. But not only is it longer, its appearance and playing characteristics have also been radically transformed since Ernie Els beat Loren Roberts and Colin Montgomerie in extra-time 13 years ago. Oakmont then resembled most other inland American courses with fairways lined by oaks, spruce, cherry, and crab-apple trees — trees that were never part of Fownes’ original vision for the parcel of farmland 14 miles northeast of Steel City. Enamored with Scottish links golf, Fownes intended his masterpiece to be open and exposed to the elements. So open was it during its first half century in fact, writer Grantland Rice observed in 1939 that 17 flags could be seen from the clubhouse porch, the only one missing being the 16th , obscured by a hill.

In 1962, however, club president Fred Brand reacted to a derogatory article in the New Yorker, in which Oakmont was described as a barren, ugly brute, by planting thousands of trees with the intention of making the course more attractive. But by the early 1990s, a small and nostalgic section of the membership decided the course should be stripped of its interlopers and, under cover of darkness, trees started coming down. Now 15 years later, 8,000 or more tress are gon, with tall, wispy fescue grass replacing them. The landscape has morphed from classic parkland into pseudo-linksland, albeit slightly greener.

At first, those who favored the trees were up in arms, and there was talk of legal action. Thankfully, the rumpus has more or less evaporated, and this year’s championship should go ahead without the threat of background noise. What’s more, the new-look Oakmont has so far been critically acclaimed by nearly everyone who’s seen it, including U.S. Open competitors who came early for a sneak peak.

Before this week, the USGA’s senior director of rules and competitions, Mike Davis, whose first U.S. Open setup was Winged Foot’s West Course last year, spoke of concerns that this year’s venue was perhaps a little lush for his liking. But temperatures in the low to mid 80s are forecast for the first three rounds, so Oakmont’s notoriously slick, poa annua greens which superintendent John Zimmers cuts to precisely 30/320ths of an inch most days will dry out fast and could, Zimmers predicts, be rolling at 13 or more on the stimpmeter come the weekend.

Polished granite greens, 22-yard wide fairways, 288-yard par 3s, 667-yard par 5s, and typically dense and impenetrable rough will make Oakmont the classic U.S. Open test, where the possibility of anyone replicating Johnny Miller’s 1973 closing round of 63 is more distant than the far side of Pluto. Willie Anderson’s record for the highest winning total (331, recorded at Myopia Hunt Club in 1901) is probably safe even if the greens dry out, but if they end up thirsting for water like the putting surfaces at Shinnecock Hills did in 2004, a winning score of 290 (plus-10) or higher could be on the cards, and Harrington’s 288 will look peachy.

Finding the short grass off the tee will be crucial. Not even the mighty Woods could hope to position his ball in the right spot on the heavily pitched greens (i.e. below the hole) from the rough with any great regularity. But with fast-running fairways and slopes diverting the ball off the straight and narrow toward either the rough or any of the 80-plus bunkers that threaten the tee shot, the challenge of finding a safe patch of grass from which to approach the flag will be not only a severe test of skill, but of patience as well.

Choosing a winner is probably a futile and profitless task. Woods obviously possesses the skill and determination to win but his inaccuracy of the tee might be his downfall. One would never bet against him, of course, and one need only look at how he maneuvered his ball so deftly around Hoylake in the British Open last summer to realize what a master he is of discovering the method that works best, but it’s inconceivable he could win finding just 55.36% of fairways, what he’s hit so far this season.

It may be too early in Phil Mickelson’s relationship with teacher Butch Harmon for the left-hander to conquer such a brutal course and doubts remain over the wrist he injured at the Memorial two weeks ago. But again, you can’t count him out, especially as his results since setting up shop with Harmon have been highly impressive (third, third, and a win at the Players before the withdrawal at Muirfield Village), plus his desire to atone for the debacle at the 72nd hole last year will be intense.

But if Winged Foot is anything to go by, this could be another year for the quiet, persistent (and ultra-talented) type who takes the inevitable bogies on the chin and believes a 71st hole chip-in and brilliant last hole up and down are always possible.

Defending champion Geoff Ogilvy has only four top-10 from 13 events this year and missed the cut by three shots in Memphis last week, but his composure and steady temperament could prove decisive again. And others with a similar, unflappable nature: Luke Donald, Jim Furyk, Retief Goosen and Scott Verplank might also fare well.

And how about Zach Johnson? The Masters champion clearly possesses the game and even, balanced disposition to win at a course like Oakmont. And, crazy though it sounds, his accuracy with a wedge, solid putting and sound tactics could very well put him halfway to a Grand Slam.

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