Collin Morikawa’s approach shots matter at St Andrews because the Old Course turns certainty into sand, fescue, and bad math. Forget the 350-yard drive. At golf’s oldest stage, the real fight begins from 160 yards out, where the wind changes its mind, the turf feels bare under the spikes, and the pin looks close until the ball lands 40 feet short.
Morikawa does not just hit irons. He dictates terms to the ground. The strike comes off the face with a hard clack, climbs just enough, then lands with the dull slap of a shot built for links turf. In that moment, St Andrews strips golf down to nerve, bounce, and geometry.
The 2027 Open gives this preview its edge. The Open’s official course update says the Old Course will stretch from 7,313 yards to 7,445 yards, with six holes lengthened and bunker work sharpened before the 155th Open. However, St Andrews has never needed yardage to bare its teeth.
It still defends itself the old way.
A good shot can finish wrong.
The Old Course has changed, but its cruelty has not
In 2022, the Old Course played at 7,313 yards for the 150th Open. It stayed odd by modern major standards: two par-3s, two par-5s, and 14 par-4s doing the real damage. Data Golf’s historical tournament tables placed the field greens-in-regulation rate around 64 percent that week. Players found plenty of greens. Many still found misery.
That number carries the whole St Andrews problem.
These greens sprawl like aircraft carrier decks. A player can hit one clean, raise a hand to the crowd, then walk up and find a first putt from a different zip code. Across the course, a safe iron can become a lag-putting sentence. Just beyond the flag, one extra bounce can send the ball into a hollow with mud on its teeth.
Morikawa attacks that problem directly.
At Royal St George’s in 2021, The Open’s official record credited him with a final-round 66 and a 15-under total of 265. He did not beat that championship into submission. He trimmed the air. Despite the pressure, his irons kept finding narrow windows, and his putter behaved long enough for the ball-striking to carry the week.
However, St Andrews asks for a rougher version of the same skill. Royal St George’s demanded patience. The Old Course demands patience with dirt under the fingernails.
That makes Collin Morikawa’s approach shots the clearest reason to watch him before the Open returns to golf’s oldest theater.
Why Morikawa’s iron play fits this place
Links golf looks romantic from a distance.
Up close, it can feel mean. The fairways run hard. The fescue grabs ankles. Pot bunkers sit below eye level like open manholes. Gorse waits where the eyes least want to go. Across the turf, the ball gathers speed in ugly little bursts, as if it has found a private slope no one warned about.
Morikawa owns the one skill that travels through all of it: precise contact.
His swing wastes little. The club does not thrash at the ball. It compresses it. At the time many contenders built their games around speed first and problem-solving second, Morikawa moved the other way. He builds holes from the landing spot backward.
That matters at St Andrews because the course rarely asks for one perfect target. It asks for the correct mistake. In 2022, Cameron Smith won at 20 under, matching the lowest score to par in Open history. Yet still, the Old Course did not become easy. It rewarded a player who kept leaving himself the right next shot.
Morikawa’s flaw remains plain. Per PGA Tour and Data Golf strokes-gained tracking, his approach play has carried elite weight across recent seasons, while the putter has moved through colder spells. On the other hand, St Andrews can soften that weakness if his irons turn long putts into fair ones and recovery chips into tap-down chores.
Soon enough, his balls cannot merely find the green.
They must find the shelf.
That is where Collin Morikawa’s approach shots stop being a strength and start looking like the whole blueprint.
Where the irons must win the fight
The countdown below does not rank beauty. It ranks pressure.
Each shot blends the demand of the hole, the shape of the Old Course, and the exact kind of iron control Morikawa needs to win another Claret Jug. However, the list also needs the smell of the place. St Andrews is not a yardage sheet. It is a cold walk through wet turf, gull noise, pot bunkers, bump-and-runs, and old fear.
If Morikawa lifts the Jug again, these ten approach shots are where he will win the fight.
10. The first-hole pitch that settles the hands
The first at St Andrews can trick a player into feeling safe.
The fairway opens wide beside the R&A clubhouse. Cameras crowd the path. The Swilcan Burn glints in front of the green. However, that short pitch over water can make a player’s hands feel twice their size.
Burn played short by championship standards in 2022. Still, the opening approach carries a different kind of danger. The player has not learned the day’s wind. The turf has not offered its first true answer. Suddenly, a wedge becomes a pulse check.
Morikawa’s defining play here would not need to rattle the flagstick. He needs a clipped wedge that skips once, checks, and leaves him breathing room. At the time, many players chase the first birdie as if the round owes them comfort. St Andrews rarely does.
Nerves are the only thing that truly grows near the Valley of Sin.
For Collin Morikawa’s approach shots, the opener sets the contract: control the spin, accept the number, and refuse the crowd’s invitation to rush.
9. Dyke and the first optical lie
The second hole looks manageable until the ball starts running.
Gorse on the right turns the tee shot into a dare. A shared green waits ahead, wide enough to welcome imprecision and mean enough to punish it. Across the fairway, a player may hit the green and still stare at a putt that feels like a railway journey.
Morikawa’s edge lives in his ability to pick a section, not a surface. A normal approach player sees green. He must see quadrant, shoulder, and slope. In that moment, a mid-iron needs to fly under the wind, land without panic, and finish below the hole.
However, Dyke also tests patience. The second does not always punish with water or spectacle. It punishes with a bad angle and a slow bleed. Miss the correct half, and par starts breathing harder.
The cultural lesson starts early: at St Andrews, “green in regulation” can lie to your face.
8. Cartgate and the bunker that steals the eyes
Cartgate Out carries one of the Old Course’s favorite tricks.
The front bunker grabs attention. The shared green stretches behind it. The fairway offers choices without offering comfort. However, its real length changes with wind, firmness, and nerve.
Morikawa’s approach must ignore the obvious fear. Ignoring the bunker does not mean pretending it does not exist. He needs to use it as a boundary, then land the ball where the ground can help. Just beyond the bunker’s shadow, the right bounce can feed the shot. A weak one can die short and leave a grim little recovery from tight turf.
This is not target golf.
It is turf management.
At the time old links courses shaped champions, players learned to play along the ground because the air refused to cooperate. Morikawa grew up in a different game, with launch windows, spin rates, and clean practice ranges. Yet still, his best irons translate because he controls the strike first.
Cartgate asks whether he can control the bounce second.
7. Ginger Beer and the clack of the long iron
The fourth hole, Ginger Beer, demands raw muscle and a steady hand.
Distance does not erase precision here. A strong drive can still leave a long iron from a tight lie, with wind pressing into the face and the green sitting firm behind trouble. However, the shot demands more than a good number. It demands a player willing to hold shape while the air tugs at the ball.
Morikawa’s long irons can sound almost severe. The strike brings that sharp clack, then the ball leaves on a flatter line than expected. Despite the pressure, he can hold the face square long enough to keep the flight from ballooning.
That matters here because Ginger Beer can turn small technical leaks into loud mistakes. A toe strike loses shape. A heavy strike catches fescue. A brave shot with too much spin can hang in the breeze and fall short like wet paper.
Before long, this hole separates pretty swings from working ones.
The legacy note sits in the name itself. Ginger Beer sounds harmless, almost playful. The hole plays with a clenched jaw.
6. Hole O’Cross and the 100-yard green trap
The fifth has always carried temptation.
Power players see a chance. They smell eagle. They hear the gallery before the ball even lands. However, St Andrews often turns that kind of optimism into a long walk with a putter and a private argument.
This putting surface stretches close to 100 yards. A player can reach it in two and still face a putt that belongs on another hole. Across the green, small shelves, humps, and slow shoulders turn distance control into survival.
Morikawa does not just need to hit a long second. He needs to hit the right long second.
A towering fairway wood may please the gallery. A controlled layup may win the hole. In that moment, Collin Morikawa’s approach shots become part of a larger strategy. He must decide whether the green invites attack or traps it.
On the other hand, his wedge control gives him a second route. If the angle looks wrong, he can lay to a number and turn that huge green into a smaller, crueler target.
St Andrews loves punishing greed that sounds logical.
5. High Out and the half-club problem
High Out does not need drama to hurt a player.
The ball may sit cleanly. The flag may look available. The wind may feel soft for two seconds, then slap the player mid-backswing. However, the Old Course saves some of its nastiest questions for moments that look harmless.
Morikawa’s challenge here feels subtle. He may not face a heroic long iron. Instead, he may face a half-club shot in crosswind, the kind that exposes feel more than power. Just beyond the safe miss, the green can shed the ball into places that turn birdie into annoyance.
Many modern players dislike these numbers. Morikawa usually handles them better because his swing does not depend on full violence. He can take speed off. He can trap the ball. He can hit a cut that lands soft without floating into the sky.
Yet still, St Andrews will ask him to trust a shot that may not look right while it flies.
The cultural point feels old and sharp: the course never needed to shout to get inside a player’s hands.
4. Short and the spin bargain
The eighth gives the round a brief pause.
Short does not hide behind strategy. The green sits exposed enough for one club to become two. However, the shot carries no clutter. A player stands there, feels the air, and owns the swing.
That simplicity can make the hole more frightening.
Morikawa’s best answer would come through trajectory. A high iron can stall and fall. A low bullet can skip through the back and leave a touchy chip from shaved ground. Despite the pressure, he must choose the middle flight: firm enough to cut wind, soft enough to stop before the ground gets mean.
At the time links golf first shaped champions, this kind of shot defined the craft. Players did not ask the ball to obey only in the air. They asked it to obey after landing.
For Collin Morikawa’s approach shots, Short represents the cleanest test on the course. No hiding. No dramatic strategy speech. Just club, wind, strike, and spin.
3. Bobby Jones and the false comfort of a short par-4
The tenth honors a player who understood restraint.
Bobby Jones has never depended on brute length. Players can attack, lay back, or wedge into a green that punishes careless angles. However, the hole makes aggression look modern and wisdom look scared.
That is the trap.
Across the fairway, the best option may not produce the loudest swing. It may produce the cleanest second shot. Morikawa should embrace that. A controlled tee ball to the proper side can create the kind of wedge he loves: low, nipped, and spinning from a tight lie.
Suddenly, the hole shrinks. The green stops looking like a vague patch of turf and starts looking like a landing strip.
However, this kind of hole also tests ego. A player who wants to prove he can drive it may leave himself a filthy little pitch from a stance that never settles. Before long, the clever player can pass the powerful one without making a birdie look spectacular.
Here, Collin Morikawa’s approach shots need to be boring in the best possible way.
2. Corner of the Dyke and the card-protection shot
The 16th can make a clean card feel fragile.
Corner of the Dyke already squeezes the mind because out of bounds waits right, and the safe side does not always leave the best approach. The fairway feels like a decision more than a strip of grass. However, the real test arrives after the tee shot, when a player must choose between protecting par and inviting disaster.
Morikawa’s defining play here would start before the iron swing. He must decide how much angle he wants to buy. Once the ball finds the fairway, the approach becomes an exam in emotional discipline.
A player chasing the flag may bring calamity into play. A player bailing out may leave himself a nasty two-putt from distance. In that moment, the correct shot might finish 25 feet away and feel slightly unsatisfying.
That is championship golf at St Andrews.
It rewards the ego that can stay quiet.
The cultural legacy of 16 does not need a monument. Everyone remembers the Road Hole, but 16 often decides who reaches it with a pulse. For Morikawa, this is the place where iron play must protect the scorecard, not decorate it.
1. The Road Hole and the narrowest breath in golf
The 17th owns the tournament before anyone reaches the 18th tee.
Road’s yardage barely begins the conversation. The tee shot over the hotel gets the television treatment. However, the approach decides whether a player walks toward history or toward a bunker with no mercy.
The Road Hole bunker sits like a grave cut into the front-left side. The road and wall wait long. The green angles away. Wind can turn commitment into comedy. Despite the pressure, Morikawa must stand over a long iron or fairway metal and choose a shape without begging for forgiveness.
This is where Collin Morikawa’s approach shots either become the story or disappear into the Old Course archive.
A safe shot can still run too far. A bold shot can finish buried. On the other hand, the right shot can land short of the deepest danger, release across the front edge, and stop before the road steals the round. That sounds simple until a player tries it with the Claret Jug in the air.
Jack Nicklaus, Tiger Woods, Seve Ballesteros, Nick Faldo, and Cameron Smith all built St Andrews chapters under the same rule. The Old Course does not care about reputation. It only respects the shot in front of it.
Finally, the Road Hole strips Morikawa’s entire case to one question: can the best part of his game hold its shape when the margin becomes one bounce wide?
The 2027 Open may reveal the real ceiling
Morikawa’s 2021 Open victory was not just a win. It was an announcement. He looked like a man born to play in the wind, even if his game came from a polished modern factory of launch data and clean mechanics.
Years passed, and the picture grew more complicated. The approach game stayed elite. The putter wandered. Other stars gained speed, titles, and noise. However, St Andrews does not always crown the loudest player. It often rewards the one who understands that the obvious shot can be the wrong shot.
By 2027, the Old Course will look familiar from the blimp and feel harsher underfoot. The wind will still come off the Eden. The turf will still shine thin and brown in the wrong light. The bunkers will still swallow ankles, wrists, and scorecards. Yet still, the soul of the place will stay stubborn.
That is why Collin Morikawa’s approach shots remain the best argument for him there.
Power helps. Putting can steal a week. However, St Andrews keeps dragging the game back to craft. It wants the player who can clip a 6-iron through cold air, land it on a shoulder no camera sees, and watch the ball trickle into the only safe pocket on a green the size of a runway.
Morikawa has that shot.
The question for 2027 is whether he has enough of them, under enough pressure, with enough putts falling after the clack fades into the wind.
READ MORE: Riviera Will Punish Bryson DeChambeau If His Green-Speed Math Fails
FAQs
Q. Why do Collin Morikawa’s approach shots matter at St Andrews?
A. They matter because St Andrews rewards exact landing spots. Morikawa’s iron control can turn huge greens into smaller targets.
Q. When will The Open return to St Andrews?
A. The Open returns to St Andrews in 2027. The Old Course will host the 155th Open Championship.
Q. Why is the Road Hole so important for Morikawa?
A. The Road Hole tests his best skill under maximum pressure. One long approach can decide the round.
Q. What makes St Andrews difficult for elite golfers?
A. St Andrews uses wind, firm turf, huge greens, and pot bunkers. Good shots can still finish in awful places.
Q. Can Morikawa win another Open at St Andrews?
A. Yes, if his irons stay sharp and the putter holds up. His approach play gives him a real path.
Crunching the numbers and watching the highlights. Sports talk without the fluff.
