Regretting the chainsaw

It seems greenkeepers everywhere are keeping their chainsaws fine tuned in a readiness to mow down trees like that villainous wizard, Saruman the White… “The roots are strong ma’ Lord.” But trees really are awesome, and the current trend that’s coalescing through our business is totally screwing with my inner hippie.

I’ve always been intrigued by trees, an interest spawned during my childhood from the many hours I spent hanging out in the woods. Whether it was getting into nonsense with my friends, building forts, or just simply escaping from the doldrums of suburbia, being among the trees always felt like a sanctuary away from the real world, a place where you could just be yourself.

When Oakmont obliterated nearly every tree on its property, I had mixed feelings about it. I understood the idea of bringing this epic course back to its original design, and while viewing the 2016 U.S. Open, I honestly liked what I was seeing. But every single tree? It seemed extreme.

Trees are the native hazard in American golf, unlike bunkers, which are a plagiarized form of punishment stolen from our friends playing golf across the Atlantic. And in all honesty, I can’t remember many famous bunker shots. But I recall some epic shots involving trees.

Who can forget Sergio Garcia clipping one off the roots at Medinah or Y.E. Yang’s confident hybrid shot sailing over the trees to within feet of the 18th flag during the PGA Championship? That shot was amazing, and it pretty much kicked off the downfall of Tiger Woods.

But perhaps the most memorable shot in majors history was everyone’s favorite lefty, Phil Mickelson, striping one off the pine straw between two trees at Augusta National. I really thought Phil was going to choke as he lined up that shot, but when his Callaway nestled to within a couple of feet of the flagstick on 13, I realized that old gambler had just assured himself a third green jacket.

Even though I might hug the occasional tree while also appreciating the skill it takes to maneuver around them while playing, it doesn’t mean I’m not down with firing up the Stihl. The course I currently manage has hundreds of trees that need to go. We have white pines blocking direct lines of play from fairway bunkers, overhanging sycamore limbs inhibiting back swings, and worst of all, a ton of poplars surrounding two crucial putting surfaces, blocking valuable sunlight and air, while constantly raining down their litter.

I fully comprehend that these trees need to go, particularly those poplars. They’re behemoths making my task of managing the two aforementioned putting surfaces quite tricky in the throes of summer. They require my utmost attention when temperatures and humidity begin to surge, making this area on the course feel like southeast Asia. It’s literally like trying to grow grass in a dome. So, to enhance turf performance, our chainsaws have been singing the past couple of winters.

But every time we “Saruman” a poplar or “Bunyan” a sycamore, I can’t help but wonder how much these trees have witnessed. They’ve beheld the gutta percha, niblicks, mashies and the struggle of women not being able to play. They’ve seen beautiful summers, harsh winters, urination, plus countless greenkeepers that found solace beneath the shade of their canopies.

I got into this greenkeeping business because of the connection I feel with the Earth. To me, trees are such an integral piece of this kinship, so it does pain my soul when I hear a felled tree pummeling the ground. I understand it’s part of my job, but for the 20 years I’ve been doing this and all the trees I’ve seen cut down, I can honestly say, not once has it ever felt right.

Photo: pixabay.com/pb826