If a course needs to be in great condition to be played

“If a course needs to be in great condition to be played effectively, then the design strategy is flawed.” Thus spoke Tom Watson, a master of golf and of wisdom, whose words reach far beyond the fairways and greens. At first glance, this quote speaks to the craft of course design, but beneath its surface lies a universal truth—one about resilience, purpose, and the strength of design that endures through adversity. For Watson is not merely speaking of grass and sand, but of all things built by human hands and hearts. His teaching reminds us that true excellence does not depend upon perfection, but upon the power to endure imperfection.

In the age of the ancients, builders of temples and warriors of strategy alike knew this: that a thing well-made must not only shine in calm weather, but stand firm in the storm. A structure that collapses at the first tremor was never sound to begin with. Likewise, a golf course—or a life—that functions only under perfect conditions is no triumph at all. Watson’s wisdom speaks to the deeper art of creation: build so that your design has soul, flexibility, and balance, not mere polish. For the measure of a thing’s worth is not how it thrives when all is well, but how it endures when the winds of chaos rise.

Tom Watson, a legend shaped by wind-swept links and rain-soaked greens, learned this truth on the wild courses of Scotland, where the weather is no respecter of rank or reputation. There, amidst the heather and the gales, golfers confront not manicured beauty but the raw, unyielding spirit of the earth. Those who depend upon perfect conditions falter. But those who understand the game’s deeper design—its strategy, adaptability, and humility before nature—find victory in the very struggle. Thus, when Watson speaks of design being flawed if it depends on perfection, he speaks as one who knows: greatness is not smooth—it is strong.

Consider also the builders of old—those who raised the Parthenon upon the rocky hills of Athens. They did not craft their temple for the fleeting perfection of one season’s sun. They built with purpose, proportion, and wisdom, so that even when time wore its stones and empires fell around it, its beauty and harmony endured. The same principle holds in Watson’s teaching: a true design—whether of architecture, art, or life—should be beautiful not because it is untouched by hardship, but because it is designed to survive it.

And what of life itself? Are we not all architects of our own courses—our days, our choices, our destinies? If our happiness depends solely upon the smoothness of circumstance, then our strategy is flawed. The wise must learn, as Watson teaches, to build within themselves a structure that can weather imperfection. One must learn to adapt, to play through the rough, to find strength in the uneven ground. The storms will come; the greens will wither; the fairways will fade. But if your foundation is sound—if your inner design is guided by principle and purpose—then you will not only endure; you will rise stronger because of it.

Even in war and history, this truth has stood the test of time. When Napoleon built his empire upon speed and precision, it glittered like a blade—but when the harshness of the Russian winter came, his strategy proved fragile. The ancient generals who built for endurance—those who planned for hardship—outlasted him. So too with our own pursuits: those whose dreams depend only on comfort will see them falter, while those whose plans account for adversity will see them stand unshaken.

So let the teaching of Tom Watson be carved upon your heart: build with integrity, not dependency. Whether you craft a work of art, a business, or a life, ensure that it can stand when perfection fades. Strive for beauty, yes—but let it be beauty rooted in balance, strength, and wisdom. Do not seek to make your path smooth; seek to make yourself steady upon it.

For in the end, the truest design is not that which gleams in sunlight, but that which holds its shape when the storm arrives—and smiles beneath the rain.