PGA Championship Pin Locations: Are They Pushing Golfers Too Far?

Scheffler, after his first two rounds, didn’t hold back. He called most of the pins “kind of absurd.” He’s seen some tough ones in his day, mind you. U.S. Opens, Oakmont – the usual suspects for brutal setups. But this? This was next level. He pointed to the 14th hole as an example. A pin right on a spine. You hit a 4-iron to a 10-foot circle, and if it’s even a little off, you’re looking at a nightmare two-putt. He even saw Robert MacIntyre make a birdie there with a great shot. So, is it unfair? Probably not, he grudgingly admits. But it’s aggressive. Damn aggressive.

Shane Lowry, the 2019 Open champ, shot a 76 and was hanging on for dear life just to make the cut. He was laughing, though. Not in a good way. He’s seen tricky pins before, no doubt. A “borderline” pin at Augusta, sure. But Augusta usually gives you a break on the next hole, tucking the next pin in a nice little bowl. Not here. At Aronimink, it’s relentless. He felt like every pin was sitting on the “bonnet of a car.” No bowls. Just crowns. And when you’re hitting 15-footers that feel like they could roll off the green? That’s a special kind of torture. He was genuinely hoping for the weekend just to get a couple more cracks at this golden-age design, even with the gusting wind making things even more dicey.

Patrick Reed echoed the sentiment. “The pins are brutal,” he said. None in bowls, all on crowns. He even called the par-3 eighth, a beast at 243 yards, a “dumb hole.” But even Reed, who knows a thing or two about battling tough setups, admitted that if you hit a quality iron shot, you still have a chance. It’s just that “good” won’t cut it. You need to be exceptional. There’s almost no wiggle room for error. You have to be precise. Absolutely precise.

The Fine Line Between Challenging and Cruel

So, where is this line? When does a course go from being a stern test to being, frankly, a bit of a joke? It’s about fairness. About rewarding good shots and penalizing bad ones, not just randomly punishing perfection. When a pin is placed on a slope that actively works against a well-struck shot, it feels less like a test of skill and more like a test of your patience. And for these guys, who are paid to perform under pressure, that’s a dangerous game to play.

The greens at Aronimink are already a formidable defense. Donald Ross designed them with subtle, often severe, slopes. Adding pins to the very crests of these slopes, especially when combined with wind and firm conditions, amplifies the difficulty exponentially. It’s not just about hitting the green; it’s about hitting the green in a very specific, very small area. Miss that tiny window, and you’re left with a putt that requires more luck than skill to get close.

It’s a different kind of challenge, sure. But is it the *best* kind of challenge for a major championship? That’s the million-dollar question. Some argue that this is exactly what a major should be – pushing players to their absolute limits, forcing them to make decisions and execute shots they might normally avoid. Others feel it crosses into the realm of the unfair, where the course setup itself becomes the primary antagonist, rather than just an impartial arbiter of skill.

Comparing Setups: Aronimink vs. The Best of the Rest

Scheffler’s caddie, Ted Scott, and Justin Rose’s caddie, Mark Fulcher, reportedly said that only Shinnecock Hills, which was set to host a U.S. Open soon, could compare to the difficulty of these pin locations. Even Oakmont, a course notorious for its brutal greens, has a different kind of severity. Oakmont’s greens are often severely sloped in one direction. Aronimink, however, presents a more complex challenge. You can have a green that slopes one way, and then the pin is placed on a secondary slope that goes the other way. It’s less natural, more manufactured, according to Scheffler. It makes getting the ball close incredibly difficult, and holing putts even more so, especially when you factor in the wind.

This manufactured difficulty, while certainly making the course harder, raises questions about the essence of a major championship. Is it about overcoming a supremely natural and challenging golf course, or is it about navigating a setup that seems designed to create maximum drama, even if it pushes the boundaries of fairness?

A Glimmer of Hope?

There is a silver lining, though. Patrick Reed pointed out that the really, really dicey pins were likely placed when the greens were at their softest. The hope is that as the week progresses, and the greens firm up even more, the pin positions might become slightly more forgiving. It’s a slim hope, but for those who have battled through the first two rounds, it’s something to cling to.

Ultimately, the PGA Championship is meant to be a pinnacle of the sport. It’s supposed to showcase the best golfers in the world tackling the toughest challenges. The debate over pin locations at Aronimink highlights the ongoing tension between creating a demanding test and ensuring that test is fair and engaging for both the players and the fans. It’s a conversation that will undoubtedly continue long after the trophy is hoisted. For now, the players are just trying to survive.

If you’re looking to improve your own game and avoid some of these putting nightmares, understanding green reading is crucial. Even on your local course, a well-placed pin can make a huge difference. Check out resources on green reading techniques to bring some of that pro-level precision to your own putting.