Guy Cipriano (2)
The bleachers spelling “USGA” in patriotic script along the Oakmont Country Club 17th fairway soar above one of the most famous short par 4s in American golf.
Climbing to the northeast corner of the structure provides views of a tiny, treacherous green and back tee protruding to an Allegheny River bluff. Spectators receive bonus aerial views of the par-3 16th hole, where fairway-cut turf melds with a fabulous approach flowing to a green capable of being attacked with a high or low shot.
The golf played within these strategic sightlines will determine the winner of the 125th U.S. Open.
For a 20-minute window on Monday, the commencement of championship week, more eyes focused on push mowers, edgers, blowers and rakes than on players studying desired angles into the 17th hole. Threatening weather amid a looming championship resulted in a rare midday appearance by the Oakmont crew and volunteers. And, let’s admit it, unless a one-name wonder such as Bryson, Scottie or Rory appears, tournament practice rounds hold little entertainment value besides course gawking.
With groups of unknown players blasting, pitching and putting their way around the 17th, superintendent Mike McCormick’s team enthralled onlookers by executing a mission blending muscle, grit and craftsmanship. They mowed Oakmont’s dense, inside-the-ropes rough, sculpted turf around bunkers and finessed sand to its desired spot.
Oakmont…
— GOLF COURSE INDUSTRY (@GCImagazine) June 9, 2025
A demanding course to play.
An equally demanding course to maintain. pic.twitter.com/unc6QsiQyB
Tasks common to golf maintenance professionals were handled by uncommon personnel numbers. Two dozen workers swiftly transformed the 17th into an even tidier form than the splendor presented earlier in the day.
There’s no such concept as too many bodies or resources when preparing a course for a major championship. The stakes — for the host club, the governing body and the overall well-being of the game — are too high. The social media grumps bemoaning tournament maintenance struggle to understand the short- and long-term ramifications of something going awry during championship week. One additional set of trained, alert eyes can make an enormous reputational and financial difference.
Golf maintenance professionals operate under a camouflage ethos, striving to be neither seen nor heard. That noble mantra enhances the customer experience yet leads to misunderstandings about the extent of their work. It’s tough to fully understand and appreciate what one doesn’t see or hear. Invisibility hurts superintendents’ efforts to gain elevated visibility within the game.
Hordes of trained professionals maintaining one of the world’s great golfscapes in the middle of a mundane Monday had an unanticipated effect: it brought attention to the skill and determination possessed by the golf maintenance community.
Bunkers represent one of Oakmont’s defining features. They range from memorable — upon seeing the church pews for the first time Monday, one spectator quipped, “That’s beautiful” — to mischievous. McCormick’s team maintains 166 of them. Total square footage: around 330,000.
The 17th features just seven bunkers, below average by Oakmont’s standards. A pair of fairway bunkers, including one with three distinct sections, hug the left landing zone. Five more bunkers surround the green.
Here’s how the maintenance of the fairway bunkers looked to somebody watching from the bleachers Monday. A half-dozen workers muscled their way around faces with push mowers, as 15 teammates waited in front of the larger of the two fairway bunkers with rakes. A highly trained, supremely skilled turfgrass artisan trimmed the edges, as three operators blew clippings to collection points. Five workers raked the smaller of the two bunkers; 10 workers ranked the large bunker. Raking started at 12:01 p.m. It concluded at 12:08.
Bleacher lurkers crept toward the front of the temporary structure and gathered photos and video of a choreographed effort intended to enhance the U.S. Open production. Photos and videos from work on the 17th and other holes flooded goal-centric social media feeds Monday afternoon and evening.
See. Click. Record. Post. People who knew little about maintenance shared their encounter with the Oakmont crew to followers. “Look at this,” one spectator said as he recorded video. “This is wild.”
Somebody else’s wild is a golf maintenance professional’s norm.
Perhaps it’s not a bad thing when a change in plans makes the invisible more visible.
Guy Cipriano is Golf Course Industry’s publisher + editor-chief.
