What if I told you that one of the most criticized golf courses in America is just waiting for a little love to shine? In August, the website My Golf Spy controversially declared Leo J. Martin the worst golf course in the country. Specifically, they listed it as the bottom of the barrel, while Massachusetts earned the dubious honor of having three out of the top ten worst courses in the nation according to their findings.
In this unfortunate ranking, Ponkapoag Golf Course in Canton, often referred to as 'Ponky' by local golfers, was placed at number five, while Norwood Country Club garnered the third spot. This might be hard to believe, but Ponky is not without its literary fame! The renowned sportswriter Rick Reilly penned a humorous and insightful novel titled "Missing Links" in 1996, which tells the story of a group of middle-aged friends playing regularly at Ponky and plotting to sneak into an exclusive private club.
However, it's essential to recognize that the criteria My Golf Spy used for their evaluations aren't precisely rigorous. Their ratings were largely based on feedback collected from social media platforms. The comments targeting Ponky, Norwood, and Martin were notably harsh. For example, some expressed that they would not even consider playing at Ponky even if offered money, while others ridiculed Norwood as a mere fast-food joint masquerading as a country club. Particularly brutal were the remarks for Leo J. Martin, with one reviewer stating, "This isn't even a golf course. There are no legitimate greens or tee boxes; some holes are just fairways with flags stuck in them!"
My Golf Spy didn't hold back, describing Leo J. Martin as barely qualifying as a golf course, as it only rates a meager 2.7 on Google. To be fair, I’m a fan of the underdog, and recently, I took my son to play a round at Leo J. Martin. The greens fees for an 18-hole game for me, as a senior, totaled $17—an amount that wouldn’t buy a sandwich at most private clubs—while my son’s fee was $27, a rate identical to Ponky’s. By comparison, Norwood, a privately owned facility, charges anywhere from $37 to $46, with discounts for seniors ranging from $34 to $43.
It’s worth noting that while the term ‘greens fees’ is commonly used, it’s somewhat misleading here because, well, the course may not feature the lush green areas one might hope for. Yet, akin to many aspects of life, the adage "you get what you pay for" rings true in golf as well. Private clubs with their manicured fairways and greens come at a premium, sometimes costing members tens of thousands of dollars just to join, along with additional fees each year. On the other hand, publicly accessible courses like Martin and Ponky operate under a different ethos.
I cannot deny the negative reviews about the Martin; the course is in need of care and maintenance, and the pace of play can be slow due to the mix of skill levels among golfers. Despite this, I’m not here to condemn Leo J. Martin but to celebrate what it represents: an affordable option for individuals who can’t afford the high prices of private clubs or who have friends who can invite them to exclusive clubs.
Local resident Alexis Kissam brought her son, Freddy, along with his buddy Roman Coffey, both of whom are just learning the game, to play at the course last week. She remarked, "This is an excellent place for them to learn. We’re having a blast, and the staff are incredibly friendly." Her perspective underscores why community spaces are vital.
Martin Hanley, a supervisor at Leo J. Martin, expressed that the harsh backlash following its infamous ranking hurts. He believes it’s unfair to make judgments based solely on social media opinions. "You cannot accurately assess a golf course, or anything for that matter, purely from social media," he said. This sentiment resonates deeply as he reflects on the balance and perspective often overlooked in these reviews.
"There is a positive culture here," Hanley said passionately. "Many good people work and play here. We cater to the community." The vibrant community aspect is evident, especially when one notices programs being conducted for individuals with autism, taking place right behind him as he spoke.
Hanley, alongside his colleague Vera Rundlett, who paused from managing golf carts to chat, beamed with pride about how Leo J. Martin accommodates diverse backgrounds and abilities, all united by their shared passion for golf—a sport that has sometimes humorously been dubbed "a good walk spoiled." Hanley recalled a regular golfer, a retired physicist in his 90s, who comes just to chat about life, transcending the game itself.
"When I arrive early in the morning, some enthusiasts are already waiting in the parking lot for the sun to rise so they can tee off," Hanley shared. "This place is a hidden gem, albeit a bit rough around the edges. With some financial backing, it could truly shine!"
He is on point. Leo J. Martin reminds me of Charlie Brown's droopy Christmas tree, which turns into something beautiful once it receives care. However, the reality is that there’s no immediate support in sight to provide the necessary resources. Putting money into grass seed, fertilizer, and water isn’t cheap, and while one might wish for the Department of Conservation and Recreation to intervene, it seems unlikely.
This is truly unfortunate because, despite the questionable quality of the tees, fairways, and greens, Leo J. Martin features an engaging layout with stunning scenery and challenging holes. It could be utterly spectacular if the state showed a fraction of the dedication to everyday golfers that private clubs grant to their wealthy members.
While my son and I tackled our second shots on the par-five, 535-yard fourth hole, which resembled a sprawling prairie, we admired a flock of geese gracefully taking off in a perfect V formation, steering towards the Charles River.
"Another thing about this course is its incredible nature," Hanley remarked gleefully after our game. "A river runs through it." So, what do you think? Is the criticism of courses like Leo J. Martin fair, or do you believe they serve a vital purpose in community building? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
