#lpgagolf

Riviera looks polished until the ground opens up.

That is the warning.

The barranca is not a normal hazard. Water ends the conversation. Out of bounds gives no choice. But Riviera’s ravine does something meaner. It lets the ball stay alive just long enough to tempt a bad idea.

That is what could shape the U.S. Women’s Open.

A player finds the ball. The lie looks possible. The stance feels awkward but playable. Kikuyu grabs at the club. Suddenly, the smart shot feels boring and the reckless shot starts whispering.

That is where championships tilt.

Riviera will not only ask who hits it longest or who handles the spotlight. It will ask who can choose patience when the course offers false hope.

The barranca is not there for decoration.

Nelly Korda’s ball striking can make golf look simple.

Pinehurst No. 2 exists to make simple feel dangerous.

A perfect iron can land softly, take one extra hop, catch a shoulder and roll away like the course changed its mind. That is the problem. At Pinehurst, the hard part does not end when the ball reaches the green.

It starts there.

Korda can own the tee shot. She can own the approach. But on crowned greens with shaved edges and Bermuda grain, one slow putt can turn control into doubt. One lag left four feet short can follow her to the next tee. One comeback putt can make the whole round feel heavier.

That is why this matchup is so good.

Pinehurst will not ask if Korda has enough talent.

The Chevron finish at Memorial Park does not feel sealed off or polished.

That is the point.

This is not a champion disappearing into some private club dream. This is a major ending on a public Houston course where the city still feels close, loud and alive. The winner has to walk through all of that before the final splash.

That makes the pressure different.

The closing holes do not hand out comfort. Fifteen asks for touch. Sixteen tempts a dangerous choice. Seventeen refuses to let anyone breathe. Eighteen turns one decent drive into another question about angle, lie and nerve.

Then comes the walk.

Not just celebration. Exposure.

The pond jump tradition still matters, but Memorial Park makes it feel less like a postcard and more like something earned in public. A player does not just win here.