At this week’s 125th U.S. Open, Oakmont Country Club will unveil the longest par-three in major championship history—an eye-watering 301 yards from the back tees. Dismissed by some players as “ridiculous” and “silly,” this controversial hole is raising eyebrows and blood pressure in equal measure. But is it merely a design stunt, or a stroke of strategic brilliance aimed at testing not just technique, but temperament?
A par three that asks more than one question
A 301-yard hole labeled a par three isn’t just about distance—it’s a confrontation with ego, strategy, and mental resilience. That’s precisely what the United States Golf Association (USGA) is aiming for, according to chief championships officer John Bodenhamer, who wants competitors to “get every club dirty, all 15 of them—14 in the bag and the one between the ears.”
Oakmont’s eighth hole has long been a curiosity in the world of golf. When Ángel Cabrera won the U.S. Open here in 2007, he holed a 20-foot birdie putt at the eighth—then measuring just over 300 yards—and was the only top contender to do so. The hole has since developed an almost mythic status, not least because it played longer than many par fours during previous editions. That context helps explain why this hole, now extending beyond the average PGA Tour drive distance, continues to dominate discussion every time the U.S. Open returns to Oakmont.
The long history of a longer hole
Oakmont’s eighth has always defied expectations. At the 1953 U.S. Open, the hole played 253 yards—already longer than the average drive of a PGA Tour player at the time. In 2016, during the fourth round, it stretched to 299 yards, making it longer than the par-four 17th played in the third round. That makes the new 301-yard setup in 2025 a natural, if controversial, evolution.
Geoff Ogilvy, the 2006 U.S. Open champion, put it succinctly: “The psychology of par is amazing.” His point? Distance isn’t just a physical test—it plays tricks on the mind. On a par five, hitting a fairway metal into the green can feel opportunistic. On a par three, reaching for a driver can feel like failure. “No one likes to get wood out on a par three,” Ogilvy said. “There’s a bit of ego involved.”
Players split on whether it’s fair or farce
Predictably, reaction from the pros has ranged from bemused to frustrated. “I haven’t played it since they lengthened it to be a short par five,” joked Jack Nicklaus, who won his first major at Oakmont in 1962. Viktor Hovland called it “silly,” while Collin Morikawa, wielding a driver on the tee during practice, simply said, “This just seems ridiculous.” Australian Min Woo Lee poked fun at the USGA on X (formerly Twitter), sharing a video of his tee shot alongside a note that read: “Hey @USGA someone put a three instead of a four.”
Yet not everyone is protesting. World number one Scottie Scheffler remains unfazed: “Whether it’s a three wood or driver, I’m just trying to get the ball on the green and two-putt.” Third-ranked Xander Schauffele echoed that sentiment: “You just figure out how best to make a score on it. You might hurt a few egos if you see guys pulling drivers or long clubs.”Ryder Cup breakout Ludvig Åberg, too, offered a shrug: “I’ve never had anything against a long par three. I guess I’m different.”
Course design or psychological warfare?
Gil Hanse, the architect responsible for recent renovations at Oakmont, has tweaked the eighth with subtle but punishing intent. The famed ‘Sahara’ bunker along the left side of the hole has been extended into the player’s line of sight, starting roughly 80 yards short of the green. Meanwhile, bunkers that once protected the back right of the green have been removed, replaced by five-inch rough—thick enough to punish anything long.
Even with a relatively flat putting surface, the eighth promises little forgiveness. In 2016, it ranked as the eighth-hardest hole, yielding just 24 birdies across the tournament. In 2007, it was the fourth toughest, with only one in four tee shots finding the green. That was the year Cabrera won—perhaps not coincidentally, the only time a birdie at the eighth helped secure a title.
One historical lowlight: even Johnny Miller, in his legendary 63 to win the 1973 U.S. Open, bogeyed the eighth after reaching the green with a four-wood and three-putting from 30 feet. It was his only blemish that day.
Numbers that put the eighth into perspective
By the end of the 2025 tournament, Oakmont’s infamous eighth will likely hold the top three records for longest par threes in major history. It already features heavily in that list. In 2023, the Los Angeles Country Club hosted a 299-yard seventh and a 297-yard 11th, sharing space in the record books with Oakmont’s own designs.
Other notable long par threes include Merion’s third (266 yards in 2013) and Shinnecock Hills’ second (264 yards in 2018). By contrast, the shortest major par three on record came at LA Country Club as well—the 15th hole played just 81 yards in round three of the 2023 U.S. Open.
In a game where holes are judged not just by their number but by how they influence strategy and emotion, Oakmont’s eighth is clearly a standout. It may not be popular, but it’s unforgettable.
Is it fair? Maybe not. But that’s not the point.
For a course that markets itself as “America’s sternest test of golf,” Oakmont is unapologetic about its identity. The eighth isn’t just long—it’s psychologically jarring, a mental landmine disguised as a simple number on the card. And that may be the entire point.
Is it a gimmick? That depends on your definition. If it’s there to generate headlines and test mental composure more than swing mechanics, then yes—it qualifies. But if it’s also a stage on which the bravest and smartest can shine, then perhaps it’s not a gimmick at all. Perhaps, as Bodenhamer implies, it’s a masterpiece of modern golf architecture. One thing is certain: when a par three demands a driver, the sport is being pushed into new territory. Whether you embrace that or resist it may say more about your own game than the course itself.
