ERIN, Wis. — There’s a story that Mike Whan likes to tell.
It was four years ago when the then-LPGA commissioner had just been named as the new CEO of the United States Golf Association. He had one job but was still doing the other, walking the driving range at an LPGA stop. Angela Stafford walked by, looked over, and said, “Hey, Commish, tell me when my pro-am tee time is at the U.S. Women’s Open.”
Whan, as he stands outside a clubhouse on a perfect early May afternoon, shakes his head and can only acknowledge that in his previous role, his job was to sell everything not bolted to the floorboards. Here, as a steward of American golf, there’s still quite a bit of selling to be done. But some things are sacred. The Chevron Championship, the first major of the women’s golf season, has a pro-am. The U.S. Women’s Open does not, and will not.
“This one’s special,” Whan said.
The 2025 U.S. Women’s Open is this week, at Erin Hills Golf Course outside of Milwaukee. The land, carved 11,000 years ago by glaciers that made it perfect for cattle farming and eventually a golf course, is majestic. There are but five trees on the property, one water hazard, and it’s so open that caddies use Holy Hill, a towering Catholic basilica some 3 miles away, as an aim point.
The course (public, but $455 greens fee in peak season) maintains a deep reverence for all things Ireland, from its logo to on-property cottages named after the great Irish links courses. But its story has a distinctly American bent to it, and the space dedicated to its USGA championship history inside the clubhouse makes clear ownership’s feelings on the subject. The same caddies make a point to tell you to avoid “Cantlay’s Bunker” at all costs on No. 15, a short par-4 with a dastardly fairway bunker that a young Patrick lost the U.S. Amateur in some 14 years ago. And the tee boxes used for the 2017 men’s U.S. Open remain intact, though now reserved for the sticks and the masochists.
An aerial view of Erin Hills, the site of this week’s U.S. Women’s Open. (Patrick McDermott / Getty Images)
Eight years ago, the men came here and Brooks Koepka won with a score of 16-under-par, or about 15 shots better than most want a U.S. Open-winning score to be. Though Erin Hills’ supporters will insist this was mostly due to an uncharacteristically mild wind throughout the week, the USGA made its opinion known by signing the course up for another six events through 2039 last year — none of them a men’s U.S. Open.
Instead, Erin Hills takes its spot on the list of U.S. Women’s Open venues, a list purposefully constructed to showcase the breadth of American golf available when you don’t have to worry about the players bombing it 330 yards down the fairway. From Pebble Beach and Lancaster the last two years to Erin Hills, Riviera and Inverness in the next three, the USGA has taken a “bangers only” approach to this championship.
It’s a show-stopping week for women’s golf, at a time when it could really use it. The LPGA is touting its 75th season this year, though no one feels much like celebrating. The disastrous tenure of Whan’s successor hurt the sport deeply, a time when women’s sports were surging in popularity everywhere else. A replacement was named last week — 39-year-old Craig Kessler, touting real golf experience at the PGA of America and Topgolf, but who was also a McKinsey consultant and CEO of a suburban bougie soap company.
Kessler faces significant financial and marketing challenges in his new position, necessitating a hit-the-ground-running approach.
Though it’s not perfect, the U.S. Women’s Open does not have the same problems. There’ll be a $12 million purse, with $2.4 million to the winner — “Winning the U.S. Women’s Open is a life-changing financial experience,” Whan said. NBC will broadcast seven hours on the weekend (the rest will be on USA and Peacock), including commercial-free final hours Saturday and Sunday. That’s thanks to a partnership with Rolex, which is also involved in bringing drone-tracer technology to a women’s major championship for the first time.
It all feels dramatically different from the Chevron Championship, a dud of an event, much less a major, with an uninspiring venue, meager local fan support and a general lack of “special” that Whan and the USGA insist on for the national championship.
That’s because the controllables are all in place, the only thing left up to chance is the materialization of a dramatic final round or a leaderboard full of recognizable, marketable names like Nelly Korda, Charley Hull and Rose Zhang.
(Top photo: Patrick McDermott / Getty Images)
