haciendadelalamogolfresort.co.uk
Alright, let’s talk about Riviera’s 10th. This damn hole. It’s got the pros absolutely buzzing. Some love it. Some hate it. Some are just… confused. It’s a short par-4, barely over 300 yards. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. This hole is a masterclass in making you question your sanity. And honestly? It’s a damn good conversation starter.
You hear all sorts of things about this hole. Some guys, like Rory McIlroy, straight-up say it “stinks.” Can’t sugarcoat that, can you? Then you’ve got Max Homa, who sums it up perfectly: it’s either the best hole in the world or the absolute worst. No middle ground there. Jon Rahm? He’s surprisingly into it, calling it his “favorite hole” on the course. Collin Morikawa, though, he’s on the other end of the spectrum, labeling it the “hardest hole” at Riviera. And Tony Finau? He’s out there praising it as “amazing.” See what I mean? It’s a full-blown debate.
This isn’t new, mind you. Riviera’s 10th has been stirring the pot for years. It’s a hole that golf’s best players, the guys you think have seen it all, are still scratching their heads over. It’s a hole that can make or break your round, and more importantly, make you question the sanity of the course designer.
So, the other day, Matt Fitzpatrick, the 2022 U.S. Open champ, had his say. After a smooth par on Thursday, things went south on Friday. The pin was tucked, just a few paces from the left edge. Fitzpatrick missed his tee shot right. Left him with 47 yards to the pin. His caddie and him surveyed the scene. The plan? Play it left, let it roll down, maybe give him a long birdie putt or dump it in the collection area for a chance at par. Sounded smart. But golf, as we know, rarely goes to plan.
He missed his spot. Dumped the second shot into a greenside bunker. Not ideal. Then came the third shot. Blasted out of the bunker, only for it to roll over the green and into that dreaded collection area. He pitched up, tapped it in for bogey. One of only two bogeys he made that day while shooting a solid five-under 66. You can see why he was pissed.
After the round, he was blunt. “It was a great round. Felt like I played really solid. Just bogey on 10, the world’s most impossible golf hole. I’ll leave it there,” he said. And when asked to elaborate? “I don’t really want to talk about it too much, I’ll just get wound up. But it’s hit and hope, let’s leave it at that.”
That “hit and hope” comment. That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? When the best players in the world feel like they’re just flinging it and praying for the best, something’s up with the hole. It’s not about skill, it’s about luck. And that’s not what you want in golf.
Fitzpatrick wasn’t alone in his misery on that particular Friday. His playing partners, Aaron Rai and Garrick Higgo, also made bogey on the 10th. Fitzpatrick even joked about it, saying, “We all made bogey. I said, ‘great bogeys, guys.’ I got a laugh out of everyone, which was good.” Laughing through the pain, I guess. It shows how universally frustrating that hole can be when it bites you.
Imagine that. Three of the best golfers in the world, all walking away with bogeys on a hole that’s barely longer than a long par-3. It’s a testament to the devilish design. It’s not just about hitting it far; it’s about hitting it *exactly* where you want to, and even then, the hole has ways of punishing you.
Rory McIlroy brought up a specific point last year. He thinks the kikuyu grass – that thick, sticky stuff that seems to coat everything up to and around the green – is the main culprit. He suggested either re-grassing that area so the ball could run up properly, or making the green a bit softer. His take? As it stands, there’s no real skill involved in playing the hole. It’s just a gamble. And when you’re gambling on a golf hole, that’s usually a sign it’s not designed brilliantly.
Fitzpatrick’s issue boils down to something fundamental: fairness. He believes No. 10 at Riviera breaks one of the most important rules for a golf hole. “I just don’t think it’s a fair golf hole, so I’ll just leave it at that,” he stated. That’s a pretty damning indictment from a player who lives and breathes the game. If the players themselves, the ones who are supposed to be masters of their craft, feel like a hole is fundamentally unfair, then maybe, just maybe, there’s a problem.
So, what’s the deal with this hole? Why does it split opinions so dramatically? It’s a short par-4, around 315 yards. The idea behind these holes is usually that you can have a go at driving the green, or you can play it safe and lay up. But Riviera’s 10th messes with that equation. The fairway is narrow, and the rough on either side is thick. If you miss the fairway, you’re often left with a difficult second shot, or worse.
The green itself is also a beast. It’s undulating, with severe slopes. Miss it, and you could be facing a tricky chip or a long putt. The collection areas around the green are notorious for funneling balls away from the pin, making up-and-down saves incredibly difficult. It’s a hole where precision is paramount, but the margin for error is razor-thin.
The strategy is complex. Do you try to bomb it over the bunkers and get close to the green? Or do you lay up short, leaving yourself a wedge shot into a well-protected green? Both options come with their own set of risks. The wind can be a factor, the pin position can be brutal, and that kikuyu grass can make even a simple chip shot feel like a lottery.
Short par-4s are a fascinating part of golf course architecture. When done right, they offer risk-reward opportunities that can be thrilling. Think of holes where you can either go for glory or play strategically. They test a player’s decision-making, their nerve, and their ability to execute under pressure. A well-designed short par-4 can be the highlight of a course, offering birdies and bogeys in equal measure.
But then you have holes like Riviera’s 10th. It seems to lean heavily on the “risk” and less on the “reward” for many players. It’s not about giving players a chance to make an eagle or a birdie with a bold play; it’s more about punishing them for the slightest miscalculation. It’s a hole that seems designed to frustrate rather than to inspire.
The debate around Hole 10 at Riviera really highlights a broader discussion in golf: what makes a hole “good”? Is it about pure challenge? Is it about strategic options? Or is it about providing a fair test of skill? For many, a good hole should offer a variety of ways to play it, and reward smart choices. When a hole feels like it’s just a crapshoot, it loses that appeal for a lot of golfers.
While we’re talking about the pros and their gripes, it’s worth considering what this means for the average golfer. If these guys, with all their talent and experience, are getting flustered by this hole, what hope do the rest of us have? For amateurs, the 10th at Riviera would likely be a nightmare. The precision required to hit the fairways and greens is immense. For most, it would be a hole to just survive, take your medicine, and move on.
However, there’s a certain allure to these kinds of holes. They become legendary, talked about, and debated. They add character to a course, even if that character is a bit cantankerous. For those who love a challenge, a hole like this can be a badge of honor if you manage to tame it. But for most, it’s likely to be a source of immense frustration.
The fact that this hole is part of a historic course like Riviera, and hosts prestigious tournaments like the Genesis Invitational, only adds to its mystique and controversy. It’s a hole that golfers will continue to talk about, analyze, and likely, curse. It’s a hole that embodies the sometimes brutal, often baffling, but always captivating nature of golf.
Ultimately, whether Riviera’s 10th is a stroke of genius or a design flaw is a matter of opinion. But one thing is for sure: it’s a hole that gets people talking. And in the world of golf, sometimes that’s half the battle. For more on challenging holes in golf, check out some of the toughest holes in professional golf.