Responding to the unbridled challenge thrown down by Rick Hart, who appears to perceive a palpable bias against TWPs work on this site, I, a GCA "newbie", will humbly attempt to dissect the course fondly referred to as "The Leviathan" by its creator, in the hope that not only will I be reassuring Mr Hart that we are all fair-minded people on this side of the equator, but learn something from others who have played the course and comment on my observations, as well as those who haven't and comment on my conclusions.
First, though, some context. Sites like ML, one of gloriously rolling sand dunes, are few and far between. More so, if they do become golf courses, then they are rarely the type of developments where Joe Public can swagger onto the first tee after stumbling from his ute after a hard day's work.
The excitement, then, when it was announced that Peter Thomson, surely one of the most cerebral golfers of all time, would apply his talents to this stretch of land for the benefit of the great unwashed, was intense.
Yet in designing a course to test the modern day champions, clever old Pete seems to have fallen into the trap in believing that length is all that is required, and has given birth, after a short labour and no anesthetic, to a 6822 METRE monster. Presumably, then, when Adam Scott reached the 558 metre 9th at Victoria with a drive and 2-iron last week, it was purely due to the ingestion of substances formerly widely used by East German female olympians. Ditto Charles Howell and Rich Beem, who also eagled the hole on the same day. Meanwhile, the 292 metre 15th, surely a hole only Rambo could defend, averaged right on its par.
So Thommo's first mistake, surely, was to build a course with four par fives? It follows, then, that his second was making three of them, 491 down then up metres, 517 flat metres, 557 sharply downhill metres, easily reachable. I know this is the type of location that would have Burt Reynolds and Ted Danson scurrying for the cap stand seconds after arrival, but I bet they still average under par the whole tournament. I'm even willing to bet that the 582 metre 18th will be hit in two, or someone will be pin high, during the tournament. When you watch Aaron Baddeley casually bludgeon a 320 metre drive on Kingston Heath's tight 11th hole, even my hopeless maths screams "reachable".
Thommo's third mistake was to construct three of those par fives with a similar green complex: a shelf green guarded by a solitary bunker, although Greg Norman, if he is in a generous mood, may donate the services of his Aust. bodyguard.
His fourth mistake was to have exactly the same type of tee-to-green conundrum on all four par fives. Bunkers guarding the ideal line, bunkers guarding the not ideal line, a minefield that would no doubt have Princess Diana, Lord save her soul, popping up on TV campaigning for their removal, guarding the ideal and not so ideal second shot, and the aforementioned green sites. Hopefully, you can detect a distinct whiff of lack of variety by now.
Mistake number five was to build three par threes of similar length, 167, 174 and 185 metres, with the other one 200.
Mistake number six was to build bunkers, that, from the back tees, are hardly going to stretch the pros. 253 metres on the 517 M par 5 2nd, 283 downhill metres on the par 5 4th, 253 again on the 428 M 8th, 253 again on the 355 M 14th, and, just for variety's sake, 250 on the 411M 16th. Some of the others are a little longer, some a lot, but this is supposed to be a course to sort the men from the boys, the hoods from the boy scouts. I'm putting in a tender for the toilet paper concession on the 2nd tee, because I know I'll sell enough to buy my own piece of Mornington Peninsula dunesland.
On an aesthetic level, with but a handful of exceptions, the bunkering is awful. Most of them look to have been gouged from the earth with a gigantic ice cream scoop. Many have no relationship with the surrounding terrain. On the par 3 17th, a wide but shallow green has two skinny finger-shaped bunkers pointing lengthways towards the tee. They belong there as much as Madonna belongs on a movie set.
There are some nice holes, though. The 3rd, 8th, 12th and 16th seem to work better, but on a piece of land like this, there should be more. There's none of the craft or guile one would expect. Whether this is Thommo's statement on the intellect of the modern professional is, of course, a matter for debate. (As is whether it will stay in good condition, given the only people who can afford to play it wear purple shirts and white trousers. And no, I don't mean Aaron Baddeley).