You haven't played golf until you've played here
"I'm going to Pine Valley for a weekend soon," said the voice on my mobile phone. "Would you like to come?" For an enthusiastic but inexperienced student of America's golf courses, invitations don't get much better than this. Sir Ronnie Hampel, for whom I had done a very small favour earlier in the summer, was now responding in spades. In a year already overflowing with golf treats, this promised to be a highlight, especially as he suggested we play Merion, just restored to the US Open Championship circuit, as well.
A more subtle question than the familiar one about which is your favourite course is: Which courses must you have played by the time the Grim Reaper calls? There are some obvious choices. Few people would dispute that the Old Course at St Andrews, Augusta National and Muirfield are absolute requirements. And unless you've dined at the long table at Prestwick after a 36-hole foursomes match, there exists a gap in your experience that nothing else can fill.
FT Weekend readers will have other candidates for inclusion in this category and e-mail suggestions are welcome. It's beyond doubt, however, that you're a golfing virgin until you've experienced Pine Valley in New Jersey. From the moment we crossed the single-track railway line and glimpsed the 18th hole, it was obvious this was a very special place indeed. Warmly welcomed, we were directed to Perrin Cottage, named after the club's first chairman, a comfortable four-bedroom residence with an open fire, powerful showers and its own floodlit putting green.
At dinner in the spacious and pleasantly informal clubhouse we sampled the snapper soup, into which I sloshed liberal quantities of sherry from one of the decanters that adorn every table. Later in the Big Room, malt in hand, we admired the portrait of the inspiration and founder of Pine Valley, George Crump, who sadly died before his dream reached fruition. Later still, in the ghostly light of a full moon, we drove our buggy back to the cottage along silent tree-lined roads.
Next morning, we breakfasted regally in a private room, our ranks swollen by the arrival of Ronnie's sons and their guests. Venturing on to the course I recalled that few golfers break 90 in their first round at Pine Valley. By the time we reached the old water tower beside the 12th tee where refreshments are served, I still harboured fanciful notions of doing so but should have known better. After three-putting for the fourth time on the big 13th green and pulling my tee shot into the water at the spectacular downhill short 14th, the normal order of things reasserted itself.
The magnificence of the course, rated the best in the world by many authorities greater than me, exceeded my highest expectations. The 18 holes are varied, distinct, geographically separate and beautiful. The golf is difficult and demands every shot in the book. The greens are fast and tricky. Bogeys may be relatively easily achieved but pars are tough and disaster lurks so often, there's not a moment you can drop your guard.
After four rounds in three days I was used to the distinctively American hoot of trains passing in the distance and not distracted by my caddy's racy description of the services available at a nearby establishment and its tariffs, though floored by his blunt inquiry: "How much does a hooker cost in London?" I did, however, acquire a modest familiarity with the course and concluded it would take a very long time indeed to tire of the excitement and joy of playing here.
Pine Valley is so large that golfers can genuinely cut themselves off completely from everything else except golf. At Merion in Pennsylvania, another seriously challenging course, the outside world is visible all around in the form of handsome homes and the occasional passing car. It too was in faultless condition with exceptionally quick greens. After our match we lunched in the clubhouse's panelled grill room and discussed how the circus of a major championship has grown since the US Open was last played here in 1981.
Merion has scarcely any room for expansion. Ed Slevin, member of more clubs on both sides of the Atlantic than anyone else I know, joined us and suggested that the return of the championship to one of the shorter courses on the rota may herald moves by the US Golf Association to limit how far the ball can be hit. Amen to that.
世界最好的高尔夫球场？
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我最近要会去松树山谷(Pine Valley)过周末，”我手机中的声音说，“你愿意来吗？”对于一个热爱美国高尔夫球场、但却经验不足的初学者而言，再没有比这更好的邀请了。今年夏季，我帮了龙尼?汉佩尔爵士(Sir Ronnie Hampel)一个很小的忙，现在他给予了极大的回报。虽然这一年我已经收到太多的高尔夫邀请，但这次有望成为一个高潮，特别是他还建议我们在Merion打球，这里刚刚重新成为美国公开赛(US Open Championship)的场地。
人们常常会问你最喜欢哪个球场，比这更微妙的一个问题是：在格里姆?里普尔(Grim Reaper，死神)召唤之前，你必须要打的球场有哪些？有一些选择是显而易见的。很少有人会反驳：圣安德鲁斯的老球场(Old Course)、奥古斯塔国家高尔夫俱乐部(Augusta National)和Muirfield球场绝对是必须要去的。如果没有在打完36洞的四人球赛后在普雷斯特维克(Prestwick)的长桌上用过餐，你的经历中就会有一种无法弥补的缺憾。
英国《金融时报周末版》(FT Weekend)的读者会认为还有其它场地应该包括在这一类别中，欢迎通过电子邮件提出建议。然而，毫无疑问的是，如果没有体验过新泽西的松树山谷，你就不能算体验过了高尔夫。从我们越过单轨铁路线瞥见第18洞的那刻起，我就能明显感到，这的确是个非常特别的地方。我们受到了热烈欢迎，被带到佩林小屋(Perrin Cottage)。这座小屋以该俱乐部首位主席的名字命名，是个舒适的四居室，有壁炉、水流强大的淋浴龙头和自设的泛光灯轻击区。
在宽敞、舒适、休闲的俱乐部会所用晚餐时，我们品尝了甲鱼汤。我从每张桌子上都有的玻璃瓶中，随意取了一些雪利酒掺在汤中。随后，我们手持麦芽酒，来到大屋(Big Room)里，欣赏乔治?克伦普(George Crump)的画像。正是他突发灵感，创建了松树山谷，不幸的是，他在梦想还没有成真的时候就去世了。更晚一些时候，在朦胧的满月清辉下，我们沿着寂静的林荫路驱车回到小屋。
第二天早上，由于龙尼的儿子及他们的宾客来到这里，提高了我们的地位，令我们得以像帝王一样在一个包间里用了早餐。鼓起勇气前往球场的途中，我想到，几乎没有哪个高尔夫球手在松树山谷第一次打球的成绩会高于90杆。我们来到第12洞发球区旁的旧水塔的时候（那里提供饮料），我仍然怀抱着这一幻想，但后来的进展表明，我应该有自知之明才对。在开阔的第13洞轻击区，我的第4杆打了3次才进洞；在第14洞的短距离坡道上，我又把球打进了水里。这才是我的正常水平。
这块球场被许多比我厉害的权威人士评为全球最好的球场，其豪华程度超过了我的最高预期。18个洞各式各样，截然不同，位置分散，而且景色优美。在这里打出好成绩很难，而且要求每次击球都记录在案。轻击区很滑，而且地形复杂，高于标准杆一杆可能相对比较容易，但要达到标准杆就已经很难了，而且总是会有厄运临头。你每时每刻都不能放松警惕。
在3天内打完4轮后，我已经习惯了远处经过的火车发出的美国式鸣笛声，也不会因为球童绘声绘色描述附近提供的服务及其价格而分散注意力――尽管在他鲁莽问我“在伦敦找个妓女需要多少钱”的时候，我着实被惊得目瞪口呆。不过，我对这块场地多少还是有了一点熟悉，并且认为，需要经过很长时间，才会厌烦在这里打球的兴奋和愉悦之情。
松树山谷太大了，以至于高尔夫球手完全可以将其它所有事物置之度外，一心只关注于高尔夫球。在另一个极具挑战性的球场――宾夕法尼亚州的Merion，能看到周围的漂亮房屋和偶尔经过的汽车。它也拥有完美无瑕的条件，也有异常光滑的轻击区。赛后，我们在与俱乐部会所的烧烤间用午餐，谈论着自1981年在这里最后一次举办美国公开赛之后，这块曾经举办过大型赛事的场地是如何发展的。
Merion几乎没有扩张空间了。这时，埃德?斯莱文(Ed Slevin)加入了我们的谈话。在我所认识的人中，斯莱文在欧美两地参加的俱乐部最多。他暗示，这项赛事即将回到一个短距离场地进行，可能预示美国高尔夫球协会(US Golf Association)打算限制击球距离。谢天谢地！
