The subtly orchestrated trio of holes closing
out the front nine
reflects the entire experience. After a 200-yard
carry
over water and sand
to the par-3 7th tightens the screws, the
gently ascending par-5 8th seems to
offer options, if not
relief: A
bubbling brook splits the fairway, creating a
narrow
chute on the left
for those who want to go for the green, and a wider
landing area to the
right for laying up. Any sense of comfort
is fleeting: The
maddeningly
small, undulated green demands a
precise short game.
Fortunately,
the par-4 9th presents an
opportunity to finish on a high note:
At 340
yards from the
back tee, it dares the bold to go for the elevated green,
protected by
a cascade of deep bunkers. The 9th is by no means a
breather, but
it does offer the possibility of a smooth landing after a
difficult
stretch.
That said, everything else is ridiculous
in the
best possible way. A
day at Madison is a highly
pleasurable assault on
the senses, thanks to a long
list of
amenities that starts on arrival,
when valets greet golfers before
taking their cars for a full wash. The
pro shop has full-time
tailors and
shoemakers who will design and make
custom clothes
for members. At the driving
range, there is a choice of
premium balls picked up by hand to keep the target
greens as
pristine
as the course.
When the construction is finished in the
fall of
2008, there will be multiple restaurants, a spa and
fitness center, and
a pool designed in the mold of the see-and-be-seen
hotspot at the
Beverly Hills
Hotel. It’s Vegas meets the
Kennedy compound, and one
gets the sense that if the
Rat Pack
were still around, they’d hightail
it down Highway 111 from Palm
Springs and make Madison their
joint.
“The Palm
Springs area is
arguably the Mecca of
American golf,” says
Meldman. “In order to attract the
kind of
membership we
wanted, everything had to be extraordinary.”
The
quality
that truly separates Madison from any other day of golf is the
focus
on food. Unlike at some prestigious clubs, where
members and
guests endure
turkey sandwiches for the
experience of playing the
course, the cuisine is so
good and
so plentiful at Madison that it’s
hard to determine which makes the
more lasting impact.
For example,
the first four holes are
beautiful and
challenging. But before the 5th
tee is a
“comfort station” that is more like a
Bacchanalian feast
crammed into a small hut. Aside from any drink imaginable,
the
offerings include sopressatta, homemade beef jerky made from filet
mignon,
and something called duck crackle—thick, delicious chunks of
marinated
duck that
clamor for a glass of Chardonnay and a
shady spot under an
oak tree. (With
rarely more than 50 rounds
a day, it’s unlikely there
would be anyone around to
object.)
By the time meal No. 1 is
digested, golfers arrive at the grill on
the 10th tee, where they can
fill up on sausage, chicken
breast and the
traditional burgers and
dogs. A few holes
later, palates are cleansed at the
fresh fruit
market, which
has, among other things, the most succulent nectarines
and
pineapples in the desert. Finally, there’s a classic homemade
lemonade
stand
at the 17th tee—a hard version is available for those
who want to take the edge
off a difficult round, or need a
little extra
courage to tackle the uphill
235-yarder.
The
feast doesn’t stop when
the round is over. Madison’s
temporary
restaurant, a surprisingly
luxurious tent/pre-fab structure, features
a simple menu: If you ask
for it, they will make it, from osso
bucco to unagi
hand rolls to
homemade ice-cream sandwiches and
hot, gooey chocolate chunk
cookies
that are positively
narcotic.
While Meldman is the visionary, many
details come
from general manager Mike Abbott, who has a more pragmatic
take on
his boss’ philosophy: “The truth is, most people get out on the
golf course and
don’t play well,” says Abbott. “We just
figured we
ought to make the experience
enjoyable anyway.”
Mission
accomplished. Golfers who find themselves with an
invitation to Madison
should not pass it up; it just might be
the most enjoyable
golf
experience money can
buy.
