OLLER

The U.S Open is our national championship, which means it should contain components that amateur golfers can comprehend, at least those of us whose swings resemble Samurai in combat.

Bad bounces? (check) Lost balls? (check) Wind that knocks down shots like Ali dropping Sonny Liston? (check)

Those who prefer watching the best players paint red numbers on pristine canvases have dozens of other PGA Tour events to enjoy. The rest of us like carnage with our birdies and eagles. More Vincent Price than Vincent Van Gogh.

To that end, Shinnecock has the ability to deliver the gory goods. I stood next to the No. 7 green in 2004, the last time Shinnecock hosted the U.S. Open. The putting surface became so dried out that perfect shots rolled off the green, prompting USGA officials to water the carpet between groups, a decision that had players complaining about uneven playing conditions.

About that, when was golf ever fair? The game has no conscience; it owes nothing to anyone. As that cowboy golfer Clint Eastwood once mumbled, “Deserve's got nothing to do with it.”

Was it enjoyable watching Titleists and Callaways roll off a turtle’s shell? In a vicious way, yes. I recall thinking, “Stephen King must be the Shinnecock greenskeeper.”

Mike Davis was the puppeteer pulling the strings on Shinnecock that skyblue day. As U.S. Open Championship director, Davis directed how the course was set up. After what is now known as “the No. 7 debacle,” Davis took ownership of the mistake, which guided his thinking moving forward. Today, as CEO Ernie Els, a two-time U.S. Open champion, hits out of the rough onto the third green during a practice round Tuesday at Shinnecock Hills in Southampton, N.Y., the site of this year’s tournament.

of the USGA, Davis oversees a kinder, gentler U.S Open.

Bah. The U.S. Open is not supposed to be fit for these kings of golf, who expect to drive the ball 300-plus yards crooked and still face a decentenough lie to wedge their approach shot within striking distance of the cup. The Open, unlike the three other major championships — Masters, British Open and PGA Championship — should reward accuracy by making the rough so diabolical that any ball entering it is like the victim in a slasher movie. No. Way. Out.

Such was not the case last year at Erin Hills, where the U.S. Open fairways were as wide as Los Angeles expressways. The Wisconsin course, designed by Columbus architect Michael Hurdzan, is dependent on breezes blowing in from Lake Michigan to guard par. Those breezes did not develop, rendering Erin Hills harmless.

Brooks Koepka won the un-Open at 16 under par, which borders on USGA blasphemy. Two years earlier, Jordan Spieth won the U.S. Open at Chambers Bay, which looked to have been designed by Picasso. The course in Washington state was more quirky shapes and awkward angles

than cunning killer, meaning that two of the past three Opens have not ascribed to the traditional blueprint of narrow fairways, thick rough and fast greens.

I hope Shinnecock is different, but the fairways have been widened since 2004,

the thick rough framing the greens has been shortened, and you can bet No. 7 green won’t be bone-dry.

Too bad. I like when players complain that the U.S. Open is too hard, not too easy.