There are bucket list courses—and then there are courses that live in your head as a dream before you've ever teed it up. For me, The International Pines was exactly that. Before a single swing, I'd spent a year anticipating not just a round of golf, but the unveiling of a vision that I'd glimpsed in its earliest form.

It all began in September 2024. After a memorable morning round with a buddy on The International's 'The Oaks' course, Paul Celano—storied Director of Golf—invited me for a tour of the new 'The Pines' course, which was slated to open the following spring.

Clearly, I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity, so I jumped in with both feet. Sitting in his Kawasaki 4X4 with seatbelt tightly fastened, we careened through the newly created sand quarry that sits 20' below the third fairway. Paul told me about his experiences watching Bill Coore reimagine what this land could become.

Paul said watching Bill Coore dream - and then bring that dream to fruition - was one of his favorite experiences in his incredible career. He recalled the early planning stages with Bill - walking through trees in mid-winter when the leaves had fallen so they could picture what could be possible. And he smiled when he told me they felled over 3,500 overgrown trees to achieve what is not just a renovation - but a "complete rework, redesign, and reimagining" of 'The Pines'.

The course is now almost completely redesigned from its origins, but it seems as if it's always been that way. Although many of the holes conjure up memories of the sand hills of North Carolina - including Mike Strantz' level visual intimidation- somehow, nothing seems artificial or out of place. Even in central, Massachusetts.

When I finally got the chance to play this new masterpiece, my anxiety had already reached mountainous proportions. I was equal parts excited at the prospect of going low, nervous about missing out on some hidden nuance or subtlety of Coore & Crenshaw's vision, and downright terrified of wasting the opportunity that a year of anticipation had built up in my mind. The sense of possibility felt as big as the canvas itself—every fairway, every angle, an invitation and a test all at once.

The front nine holes had me in awe—each one unveiling new angles, unexpected movement, and stretches of land that felt both wild and perfectly intentional. Yet more than once, I found myself quietly thanking the golf gods for my caddy. He was a total stick who had just graduated from UCONN, where he played college golf - looping at the Pines was his summer gig until real life came calling.

Not only did he have the poise and confidence that comes from college tournament chops, but he'd also been featured in the recent Mass USGA video series on the Pines. He was the guy who knew it all, and that was exactly what I needed! He made those massive, pure 007 bentgrass greens feel almost familiar, and gave me the courage to see risk and opportunity instead of trouble. Suddenly, the course revealed itself not as a stranger, but as a place I'd been waiting for all along.

And then came the par-4 15th—a hole I'd been fascinated with since Paul had described it to me the year before. During construction, a land shaper had accidentally dumped a mound of sand at the front left corner of the green. Bill Coore just happened to be onsite that day, walked over, studied the new feature, and instead of smoothing it out, insisted it stay.

That surprise mound turned into the hole's signature—guarding tucked pins on the left, creating drama and risk-reward where none was drawn in the plans. Bill Coore told Paul rather emphatically, "I never let a good mound go to waste".

Of course, that history weighed on my mind as I lined up my second. The pin was (predictably) back left, behind the infamous knoll, and I came up just short. My nerves got the best of me, my chip came up short, and I found myself making a double. Which was perfectly timed for my walk up to the 16th green, where I saw Paul and (General Manager) Michael Galvin walking up to greet my group.

This was the famed par 3 16th hole that Paul had dubbed the year before "the shortest par 5 in New England". It would play anywhere from 85 to 140 yards, and it had a gigantic sand dune short left. Today's pin was just past middle right, and it was playing about 132 from the tee. Ironically, I'm told the tiny pot bunker long right is actually much more penal than the giant sand dune, but I can understand why guys tend to go long vs. short on this one.

Paul and Michael exchanged pleasantries with us on the tee box, and they went out of their way to make sure we were having a great time. Then Paul remarked, "I can tell you – don't come up short on this pin, my friend." I (obviously) clubbed up following his sage advice.

"I never let a good mound go to waste"

I had been dreading this tee shot for an entire year, since Paul had pointed out it's diabolical nature during our Kawasaki trip. And now I had to hit my tee shot with my host knowingly watching from the tee box. I suddenly felt like Tiger hitting his tee shot on 18 at East Lake in 2018. Paul and Michael's gaze multiplied infinitely in my brain. I hit my 9 iron as hard as I could, and somehow the ball landed 15' from the pin.

I tried to wave off my miraculous shot, but I'm sure my grin was far too obvious. My buddies managed decent shots, and we parted from Michael and Paul to finish our round. But on his walk back to the pro shop, I heard Paul quip just loudly enough for me to hear, "I wouldn't mind having that guy in a member/guest someday". Any day, my friend. Any day.

The last few holes of the Pines course are something truly unique. The 17th is a long par 4 with a tough dog leg left to a severely pitched green from back to front. Our caddy bet us good money that we couldn't stop a putt from rolling off the front of the green from the top shelf, and he was very right.

But the 18th presents a real conundrum for the long hitters. We had been playing the tips (my buddy is a stick and always insists on playing the tips), which puts the Par 5 18th at about 578 yards. For me, that's a three-shot hole no matter what. But for my buddy, there was some real risk reward involved. And that's where this round got really interesting.

My buddy hit a bomb off the tee, and had 277 yards to get home from the right rough. It was a slightly uphill lie, and he decided to lay up. I asked our caddy what he would do, and he (politely) said, "Oh – I'm going for that all day". So, I smiled. Reached into my bag. And dropped a ball for him to hit. Then he smiled back with a cool confidence that I may never know. He took off his caddy bib, grabbed my buddies 3 iron, took a quick practice swing, and addressed the ball like an old friend. When he made contact, I think I heard the ball slightly screech. It flew through the air, around a tree branch, and landed 25' left of the pin for eagle. And then he told us he hadn't swung a club in three weeks.

When I putted in for my par, I shook the caddies hand and realized that the beauty of this game is that no matter how good we get, we can always get better.

Anyway, that was The Pines—not just a course, but a living story. Vision, trust, improvisation, and heart all brought together until, suddenly, it was as if the place had always existed. If you get the chance, don't just dream of The Pines. Play it—for where the architects shape the land, the memories will always follow. This is where the game takes us. And the Bucket List Series will bring you there soon.