Dye Hard

Trendy as it may be, "awesome" was the word used by noless than four people to describe their reaction to Pete Dye's selection asGCSAA's 2003 Old Tom Morris Award winner.

The praise came from those whorepresent pretty much the spectrum of the golf world -- a couple ofsuperintendents, a professional golfer and a fellow architect.

There have been countless other accolades in the past fewmonths, underscoring that Dye may be one of the more popular choices forGCSAA's highest honor.

It's only right that the folksy, straight-shooting and,above all, controversial Dye, who turns 77 later this month, should be sorecognized by the golf course management profession. After all, he's nearlyas much superintendent as he is architect.

He's a self-described "digger" -- a designer and abuilder -- whose hands get soiled by Mother Earth instead of blueprint ink.He's usually painfully self-effacing, yet a staunch individualist and proudof it. He gives credit for most of what he has done to his wife of 52years, Alice, who indeed is as accomplished and as much of an outspokenvisionary as he is.

Pete Dye has grit all too rare in modern golf.

When this country marked its centennial of golf someyears back, Dye was included among those who have had the greatest impacton the game in America. It was a very select group and he was a perfectfit.

"Look around. There's hardly a golf course built in thelast quarter century or more that doesn't have some Pete Dye in it," saysBill Coore, a Dye protégé 30 years ago and today a golf coursearchitect of considerable renown himself.

"Pete has been the major influence in my career, but morethan that, he has been the linchpin, the predominant influence in golfcourse architecture during that time. Some of the things he has done havenot only affected, but have literally guided the way golf coursearchitecture has gone."

The master's pieces

Golf architecture, and golf itself, has paid no smallmind to Dye's more notorious creations during his 42-year career, such asthe groundbreaking Harbour Town Golf Links; his beloved Crooked Stick; theinfamous stadium courses at the TPC at Sawgrass and PGA West; theimpeccable Honors Course; the Ocean Course at Kiawah Island of Ryder Cupfame; Teeth of the Dog in the wilds of the Dominican Republic; theWisconsin wonders, Blackwolf Run and Whistling Straits; and Oklahoma'sdemanding Oak Tree, just to name some of his layouts that are routinelyranked among America's greatest venues.

Dye's impact on golf course management has been equallydramatic. His designs, meant to challenge the best players as never beforewith intimidating risk/reward presentations, tee through green, pushmaintenance to a more intensive level in some ways and yet morestraightforward and efficient in others.

"What I've always respected is Pete's creativity," saysFred Klauk Jr., longtime superintendent at the TPC at Sawgrass in PonteVedra Beach, Fla., and a 27-year member of GCSAA "What he created down hereout of a swamp is just downright amazing. But it also calls for a highlymaintained golf course."

Dye himself says: "All my life I've been in golf coursemaintenance some way or another. I guess I'm closer to it than otheraspects of course development. And today, maintenance -- the new grasses,the equipment, superintendents' know-how -- has a major influence on what Ido." (See "Dye seeks GCSAA help in reining in 'progress,'" below.)

Chip off the old block

For the first 30 or so years of his life, Dye's strongties to golf were as a player of note and as a greenkeeper of lesser reputebut no less determination.

Born and raised in Urbana, Ohio, Dye spent much of hisyouth playing golf and helping with the maintenance chores at UrbanaCountry Club, a nine-hole legacy of his father. Paul Dye, a politician,saloon owner, insurance agent and avid golfer, designed and directed theconstruction of the course in 1922 when no one else would.

When World War II took away the club's staff, Pete waschristened head greenkeeper at age 15. A few years later, by then in theparachute infantry, he assumed the superintendent duties at two bases wherehe was stationed -- Fort Benning in Georgia and Fort Bragg in NorthCarolina.

Pete and Alice met in college in 1946. They were marriedin 1950, and lived and worked in the insurance business in Indianapolis forseveral years. Both also were outstanding amateur golfers.

Pete, who stayed close to golf course work as a member ofthe green committee at the Country Club of Indianapolis, won the Indianastate amateur crown in 1958, yet he has always been the second-best golferin the family.

Alice, who competed against the best women players of hertime and beyond, won the Indiana women's amateur title nine times, was amember of the 1970 Curtis Cup team and in the late 1970s won back-to-backUSGA Senior Amateur championships.

The Dyes would move to Florida in the late 1960s beforereturning to Indianapolis in 1993 to live there in the summer and to winterin Delray Beach, Fla. Along the way they raised two sons, Perry and P.B.,more or less in their own image. Both are in the designing and buildingbusiness -- Perry out of Denver and P.B. in Wellington, Fla.

The player's perspective

It was their prowess as players that eventually led Peteand Alice into golf course development, and it shaped their architecturalstyle for years to come.

The first Dye design, so to speak, was El Dorado GolfClub, a nine-hole project Pete and Alice were talked into doing by twoIndianapolis contractors in 1959. Two years later, the Dyes built an18-hole layout, Heather Hills, across town, and there was no turning back.

"I had caught the bug designing and building golfcourses," Pete says. "It changed my whole life."

And much of the golf course industry changed in theprocess.Dye tried something new right out of the box, a new greens mix developed bythe USGA and supported by Marvin Ferguson, Ph.D., and his colleagues atTexas A&M University.

Using bentgrass he grew in his front yard, Dye introducedto the world the first USGA specifications greens at El Dorado GC. He wasoff and running.

In his mid-30s at the time, Dye says he had no actualmentors to guide his initial forays into the business of designing andbuilding golf courses. But there were key influences in the early goingthat piqued his powers of imagination and daring, and shaped his work overthe next four decades.

In his 1995 book, "Bury Me in a Pot Bunker," Dye makes areference to his father that explains a lot: "My interest in alternativemeans of designing and building golf courses apparently came from my dad,who was never one to accept the status quo."

There was also Dye's infatuation with some of the oldmasters of design, such as Seth Raynor, Charles Blair Macdonald, AlisterMackenzie, as well as the work of one closer to being a contemporary,Robert Trent Jones.

And, especially, there was Donald Ross, whose PinehurstNo. 2 was revered and studied repeatedly by Dye during his stay at nearbyFort Bragg.

It's important to note that when Dye names his favoritegolf courses other than his own, the list is headed by Pinehurst, PineValley, Seminole, Merion, Camargo -- all built before 1933.

"Much like those legendary designers, Alice and I woulddesign a course based on the thoughts, images and memories of the manygreat courses we had played across the United States," Dye wrote.

Living and working with style

Dye's emergence as a "throwback" designer was etched instone when he and Alice embarked on an extended trip to Scotland in 1963.There they played and pondered many of the game's great old venues. Fivehistoric layouts were most influential -- Turnberry, Carnoustie, RoyalDornoch and a couple of Old Tom Morris' old stomping grounds, Prestwick andthe Old Course at St. Andrews.

Dye's so-called love affair with steep, deep,strategically placed bunkers, railroad ties and visual intimidation isrooted in that excursion through Scotland. He and Alice found the "look"they were looking for -- rustic, a great contrast in grasses, unyieldingnative areas and, most of all, an altogether different philosophy in botharchitecture and maintenance for the game as it was meant to be played.

Whether America, deeply imbedded in parkland-type golf atthe time, was ready for Pete Dye mattered not at all.

Low key, high note

Perhaps to understand Dye's ensuing architectural style,one first has to make note of just how he goes about the business ofdesigning and building a golf course.

First of all, Pete and Alice have eschewed thehigh-profile, corporate design scene throughout their careers. Their officeis the dining room table, whether it is in their modest home along the 18thfairway at Crooked Stick near Indianapolis or their winter quarters inDelray Beach.

Dye's work ethic is truly unique. While Alice mayoccasionally draw up some basic plans for a property, Pete prefers to walkthe site and "eyeball" the holes. As he says, "I kind of do it as I go. Alot of it is experience, but many of the aspects or formulas don't change."

Dye's genius in innovation probably stems from a stronghands-on approach from beginning to end. He walks, he digs, he drives theequipment. Almost all the labor is hired locally. He makes the turfselections himself after studying other courses in the area and seekinginput from local superintendents, especially those with the best-maintainedcourses.

Dye has always been adamant that a superintendent shouldbe on-site throughout a project. "You've got to make that work," he says."The superintendent is part of it, a key aspect. For one thing, he can beputting a crew together and get ready for grow-in. There's one thing,however -- there can only be one boss, and that's me."

"I think that besides pushing the envelope and havingprobably the greatest impact on golf course designing in the last 25 years,Pete has made the job fun," says one of Dye's most ardent followers, PaulFullmer, executive director of the American Society of Golf CourseArchitects for the past 32 years.

"Certainly he pioneered being the modern architect in thefield. He made that OK and has gradually influenced a lot of designers todo the same. I think that has improved all golf courses. Very seldom do yousee a new course today that just came out of the design room."

The digger strikes gold

The first two major projects by Dye that reflected theculmination of the many influences that guided his work were Crooked Stickin the Indianapolis suburb of Carmel and Harbour Town on Hilton HeadIsland, S.C., coincidentally one of the host courses for February's GCSAAGolf Championship.

There have been many others with "the look," mostrecently Blackwolf Run and Whistling Straits off Lake Michigan near Kohler,Wis., but The Stick and Harbour Town were as unforgettable as they wereinnovative.

Pete and Alice have always called Crooked Stick their"first-born." They found the land for the hometown project, secured thefinancial backing and just basically did it all.

When it opened in 1964, it was a masterpiece with thelook and feel of the old country. Unfortunately, fame had its price.Originally replete with tall fescue grasses, Crooked Stick was a toughlayout, too tough for the PGA of America when it decided to hold its 1991PGA Championship there.

"The world changes, I guess," says Dye, who softened thelook a bit and changed to a more American-style rough to accommodate theprofessional stars.

Since then, Crooked Stick has also hosted a number ofUSGA events, including the '93 U.S. Women's Open, and will be the site ofthe 2005 Solheim Cup matches.

While Harbour Town was a milestone for the Dye look, itwas probably more noteworthy at the time as collaboration between the Dyesand Jack Nicklaus. The course, controversial at first, has been achallenging and popular stop on the PGA Tour for more than 30 years.

Sticks and stones

Popularity on the PGA Tour wasn't among thecharacteristics of some of Dye's later projects, most notably the stadiumcourses at the TPC at Sawgrass and PGA West.

The TPC was the dream of the PGA Tour commissioner at thetime, Deane Beman, to be the home of the "Fifth Major," the PlayersChampionship. When it opened in 1982 it was a mix of Dye bringing hisfinesse/strategic design to a new level of visual, risk/reward intimidationand Beman's new tournament concept of stadium golf. It was controversy atits best and might have ruined the careers of lesser men.

Ben Crenshaw, who ironically would later in life as agolf course designer embrace the native, links-style layouts Dyechampioned, called Sawgrass "Star Wars golf designed by Darth Vader" afterhe shot in the 80s during the inaugural Players Championship there. Othercomments were more or less kind.

Coore, who today is Crenshaw's design partner, admitsthat the TPC in '82 was the epitome of what Dye was up to at the time andit turned the industry on its ear.

"That course completely altered the style and face ofgolf course architecture," Coore says. "No one had ever contemplated such athing. Considering the design philosophy and style, and all the publicity,it was a watershed event in golf architecture in America."

Five years later in the Bob Hope Desert Classic at PGAWest in La Quinta, Calif., a similar stadium setup in a very non-similarsetting, the reactions included "Spiteful. Hateful," from Raymond Floyd,and "Awful. Artificial," from Tom Watson. And those were just for starters.

While PGA West remains one of the most difficult layoutsin the world today, Dye modified Sawgrass not long after the hullabaloo in'82, and players' equipment technology has taken care of many other hardedges.

Showdown from the tips

So what is it, as Greg Norman says in his forward to"Bury Me in a Pot Bunker," that makes Dye the "man golfers love to hate?"

First of all, it would seem pertinent to identify thecritics. For the most part over the years, they have been t hose playerswho, as Dye says, play real golf -- professionals and scratch orlow-handicap amateurs. And for good reason.

Dye designs and builds his courses so that they play themost difficult from the back or championship tees. From there his famedvisual effects are the most pronounced -- real or otherwise. It alsobolsters his not-too-popular knack of reversing the age-old strategy ofrewarding long hitters.

Jim Ferriell, the head pro at Crooked Stick for 25 yearsand a former PGA Tour player, says he believes that Dye creates an illusionand that in turn creates indecision.

And that's basically the goal that Dye has always had: agolf course that looks harder than it plays.

The other side of the coin is that most Dye courses areactually built for all golfers. He presents multiple tees so players canpick the proper tee according to their ability and be challenged by theintended design from that tee.

It's around the greens, on the greens and on par-3 holesthat a Dye design goes beyond perceived intimidation and actually is penalto wayward shots. But that's also where players of all skill levels cancope and, on any given day, succeed.

In all, Dye is typically unfazed by his reputation asbeing "demonic" ("Dyeabolical" is a favorite of some pundits) andintimidating.

"It hope it's justified," he says. "I think when youbuild a golf course it should be difficult for the good player. Yet, itshould also be playable and enjoyable for the masses. I think it'simportant to point out that statistics of rounds played have shown thatsome of my so-called hardest courses have been some of the most popularamong average male golfers and women golfers."

Part-time partnerships

Although many have considered Dye a loner, he actuallyhas worked often with others. Alice has participated in at least half ofhis 120 projects.

He has done a number of courses with his sons, Perry andP.B., and also his brother, Roy (now deceased). Besides Nicklaus, Dye hasworked with such peers as Tom Fazio, Bobby Weed and Tim Liddy, andcollaborated with Norman on his pet project, the Medalist Club in HobeSound, Fla.

But nothing will ever replace the Dyes' dining room.Pete's reluctance to go corporate once sparked rumors of a feud between himand Nicklaus when Dye turned down a partnership offer from Jack.

"That was just crazy; there was no feud or anything likethat," Dye says. "Jack and I are great friends. Of course, we were twostrong-minded men when working together -- he had his set ways and I hadmine. In my opinion, Jack Nicklaus upgraded the image of the golf coursedesigner more than anyone. He changed public perception of the wholeindustry."

Chinks in the armor

In recent years, some have said that Dye has gone soft,that his designs have become less severe, less challenging.

He admits he's had to modify a lot of his designs,especially greens contours, but he adds that many talented architects havehad to rein in and adapt because of dramatic changes in agronomics, turfequipment, environmental scrutiny and vastly improved maintenanceprocedures, which have in turn caused owners and developers to seek theperfect golf course.

"The driving forces in today's golf course architectureare the events on television, housing developments, the new super grassesand maintenance equipment, and the knowledge to effectively deal with justabout any turf problem that comes along," Dye says.

"They've all combined to change the general philosophy ofthe conditioning of a golf course, and it's filtered down from the high-endclubs to the municipal facilities. And, with all due respect tosuperintendents, they've contributed greatly to the trend by learning howto grow grass under severe conditions. There's not much they can't do thesedays."

Windmills and alligators

Like a great many other veteran architects who embracetraditional design values, Dye says he is deeply disappointed in thedirection the industry is being pushed -- tricked-up layouts surrounded byhomes, a proliferation of artificial water features, wall-to-wallirrigation, holes of seemingly endless length and so on.

"I probably use less railroad ties and my bunkers aremore conventional than a lot of the guys in the business today," he says."I think a lot of things being done on golf courses now are way overdoneand have little to do with the playability of the game. But, you can'tfight city hall. You can try, but you can't spend that kind of money andsay, 'I'm going to live in the past.' The trend is just too strong."

Even more alarming to Dye are the technological advancesin players' equipment, specifically the golf ball. Course designing andbuilding have become much more costly in recent years because of the needfor more room to accommodate everyone.

"You can take the greatest high-tech golf club in theworld and it can only hit a marshmallow so far," Dye says. "Somewhere alongthe line they're going to break the barrier and it'll all be out ofcontrol.

There's going to have to be a different standard for aprofessional than for the amateur player. The new balls really only helpthe pros, anyway, because of their superior swing speeds. There is such agreat separation from the great players and the rest of us that it's hardfor John Q. Public to relate."

Dye beseeches relentlessly the USGA, PGA, GCSAA, theRoyal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews and others among the game'spowers-that-be to influence changes in the golf ball, because, he warns,course development will never catch up.

Fullmer, who has shepherded the business of the ASGCAsince 1970, says most ASGCA members are already behind Dye in his quest tobring sanity to development. Both Pete and Alice are former presidents ofthe association, and Fullmer notes that in the last several years Pete hasassumed the role as ASGCA's elder statesman.

"The members hang on his every word during his talks andpresentations at our annual meetings," Fullmer says. "It's also noteworthythat we're currently doing a living history of society members and theircareers and almost everyone has referred to Pete as an inspiration tostrive to do new things, to challenge themselves as well as the golfers. Tome, that's why GCSAA couldn't have made a better choice if you consider theimprint Pete has made on golf. And golf is certainly better for it."

A beacon on the well-worn path

Lacking a true mentor of his own, Dye has mentored manyin the golf course development business. Representative are Coore andKlauk, each at the top of their respective professions today and beholdento Dye's myriad influences and subtle career boosts.

Coore quenched a ravenous interest in golf courses in theearly 1970s when, intrigued by Dye's old-fashioned strategic touches at OakHollow Golf Club in High Point, N.C., he managed to wrangle a job as alaborer on another Dye project, the Cardinal Golf Club in nearbyGreensboro.

For the next three years, Coore toiled at some of themost rudimentary tasks in golf course construction -- often right alongsideDye himself -- but also gleaned invaluable knowledge from the architectwhile forging the relationship of a lifetime.

Often Coore would be recruited to babysit the Dyes' dogsand he would pour through their library of books about the world's greatold courses and their designers, reinforcing his comfort level with acertain style and look.

"Pete and Alice were really good to me," Coore says. "Ithink they thought I was a little bit goofy -- I had a classical languagesdegree from Wake Forest and it was like, 'What are you doing out here?' ButPete accepted the fact that I didn't know anything about building golfcourses and I was willing to learn. He'd let me tag along on hiswalk-throughs and I'd listen and learn."

What Coore learned most was that Dye was doing thingsbeyond the prevailing style in golf course architecture at the time andproving that it was all right to be different, to go your own way. He alsorecalls what he believes was Dye's best piece of advice -- so simplistic,yet so singularly relevant.

"He told me to always communicate with your equipmentoperators during construction because a lot of the time all the perfectplans and drawings on paper mean little -- you have to let the processhappen. I think, if anything, that may have been the biggest lesson Ilearned."

In 1975, Dye sent Coore down to Waterworld NationalResort & Country Club in Huntsville, Texas. He wound up working as thesuperintendent there for six years until opportunity knocked and he begandesigning and building golf courses. In 1985, he forged the partnershipwith Crenshaw.

"Even though our personal preferences in architecturalstyles have differed over the years, I have so much respect for what Petedoes," Coore says. "He has a genius for taking a property that you couldn'tcomprehend how you could put a good golf course on it, and somehow he doesit every time.

"His imagination is founded in golf. Others might have asmuch or even more landscape imagination, but it's difficult to make itwork, make it playable, make it interesting, make it good architecture.Pete does that."

Klauk might have gotten where he is today without Dye'shelp, but he'd rather not turn back the clock to find out.

The two met in 1973 when Dye was building the NorthCourse at John's Island Club in Vero Beach, Fla. Klauk stayed on assuperintendent there for two years until Dye recommended him for thesuperintendent's job at the Pine Tree Golf Club in Boynton Beach. Klauk wasat Pine Tree almost 10 years, then, with an assist from Dye, he was hiredto wield his expanding expertise at the TPC at Sawgrass.

A decade and a half later, Klauk is secure on his ownmerits and master of the golf course that golfers now love to love.

"Most of the major or radical changes to the course weredone a year or two before I got here. It was a long time ago, and we'vecontinued to improve the golf course throughout my 16 years here, mostlyrefining and detailing it out more," says Klauk, who says one of the keychanges during his tenure has been re-grassing the greens from bentgrass toTifdwarf bermuda.

"I was very fortunate to have Pete really get my careerpath headed in the right direction," Klauk says. "I owe him an awful lotfor that. It's great what GCSAA is doing for him now. It's awesome."

The woman behind the man

Friends of Pete and Alice Dye often half-jokingly wonderwhat Pete would do without Alice. Pete says he seriously shudders at thethought of such a thing. Indeed, he defers to his wife on many things, notthe least of which is their work.

Pete's uncanny creativity may be the heart and soul of aproject, but he says a word here or there from Alice can be the differencebetween making or breaking the design of a hole or a whole golf course.

"Alice has won more than 40 tournaments in her career,"he says. "She's played with Babe Zaharias, Mickey Wright, Beth Daniel --all the great women players from different eras -- and then, on the otherhand, she'll go out every Tuesday morning at Crooked Stick and play withthree gals who can't break 100. Now that's special.

"She lends a perspective to our projects thatacknowledges the good player and also the high-handicap player. I've alwayssat down and listened to her perspective. It's been good; it's why ourcourses can be played by anyone."

Alice has long been known in golf architecture circles asa tireless proponent of the well-planned integration of forward tees incourse designs to accommodate golfers of all skill levels.

She sides with Pete that a course should play mostdifficult for the better player and often has admonished him for not beingtough enough. And, she also supports her husband's efforts to producedesigns that accommodate maintenance.

"Pete is very, very cognizant of maintenance, mainlybecause he's out there with a rake and shovel and doing a lot of manualwork on a project himself, such as shaping greens," Alice says. "I thinkthat makes him understand maintenance and the superintendent's role. It'salso why we always try to have a superintendent on-site when we start aproject. They're so educated and trained now, it can't be any other way."

Lessons of a lifetime

Many in the golf course industry might see ahusband-and-wife design team as a contradiction in terms. But the Dyes makeit work because it's merely part of a lesson in what makes a good marriagework.

"It's communication," says Alice. "What we always did --and still do -- was talk about things, talk about the holes, talk aboutideas, talk about strategy, length, tee positions and angles, things likethat. It's a way of working together, and I don't always have to be there(on-site).

"Pete can create an entire hole, tee to green, on-site,which I think is amazing. But you run out of ideas sometimes and youwelcome someone who thinks along the same lines you do. And the reason wethink along the same lines is because we talk about it."

Although Alice continues to play a little competitivegolf at age 75, some of her most important work in the game in recent yearshas come off the course.

Besides being the first woman to be elected to the ASGCAand serving as its president, she has been a recipient of the Golf CourseBuilders Association's Don A. Rossi Humanitarian Award, served on the USGAhandicap committee, the advisory board of the LPGA, and was the first womanboard member of the PGA of America.

In the last few years, Alice has been instrumental in thedevelopment of a new program that helps both struggling assistantprofessionals and the growth of the game.

The assistant pros are hired to teach college golfclasses. Alice got it started at Purdue a few years ago and it has enjoyedsteady success, with 14 schools (as of October) currently participating.

Alice's key move was securing the support of the PGA,which in turn got the program added to the charities that benefit from theU.S. Ryder Cup team's compensation.

"It's a win-win," she says. "Not only are new peopleintroduced to the game, but it's great for the schools and a great thingfor the young pros to have on their resume. The important thing now is tocontinue to show progress in order to achieve more funding sources toprolong the program."

More to do, more to come

Pete Dye's inclinations toward retirement are like thoseof this wife's -- he has none; he's too busy and having too much fun. Hecontinues to take on challenging projects and also stays close to many ofhis favorite creations, tweaking this and that, refining, correcting theravages of time, grooming for the inevitable major championships.

"There are always improvements to be made, images tomaintain to stay competitive," Dye says. "You've got to do it, and I thinkthe people at those courses appreciate it."

Dye has spent a lot of time coddling the new PurdueUniversity course he designed and built. He did the job for free and evenraised the millions of dollars needed for the project, which includesagronomic and environmental research facilities.

He also continues to innovate, to look for a better wayto do things, from experimenting with turf varieties and irrigationefficiencies, to seeking more answers to water quality and wateravailability problems, to raising environmental awareness to another level.

In the epilogue to "Bury Me in a Pot Bunker," Dye pointsout that Donald Ross said his work would tell his story. "That is how Ihope to be remembered," Dye writes. "My designs reflect a traditionalistphilosophy about the game, and we must never forget that golf is playedbest when done so in the purest of forms."

Dye also believes the Old Tom Morris Award reflects hiswork's commitment to golf course management. "I'm thrilled to death by thehonor; I can't believe it," he says. "Of course, I've always beeninterested in golf course maintenance, but what I think is great is thatI've been able to see how so many superintendents do their job in so manydifferent ways under so many different circumstances in so many differentplaces around the country."

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