Sharks Tooth, All Pearly White
On paper, Shark’s Tooth Golf Club has the ingredients that can combine to make a great course. Located just off the breezy Gulf of Mexico west of Panama City Beach in Florida’s Panhandle, the holes sit on sandy soil, cut through a backdrop haunted by dense hardwoods and ominous undergrowth. The course stretches over some nice, gentle interior elevations and reaches out several times to the shore of Lake Powell, and the architects, Greg Norman Course Design, is immensely experienced with a global chest of inspirations.
Unfortunately the ingredients don’t quite come together, and the sauce breaks. Shark’s Tooth is enjoyable and one of the most sophisticated courses in this quality-golf starved section of the state, but by standards of greatness this is a paper recipe and not particularly soulful cooking.
The strength of the course is in the green complexes, most of which display narrow, angled putting surfaces set slightly above grade with naked collars that fade 360-degrees into chipping areas. Hitting these targets requires distance control, and getting up and down off the tight lies takes real touch.
The first hole, a mid-length par-4, sets a seductive pace with a broad, flat fairway that stretches like a runway up to the slip-shouldered green perched behind several small bunkers. It feels like you could play it ten times and face ten different angles and scenarios.
Holes like 4, 7 and 8 are similar in concept, each a par-4 that asks you figure out what part of the big landing area to play to, then switch gears into precision mode. The brain is enthralled with subtlety and nuance of these holes, but the routing makes a shameless play for the heart when it turns toward the shoreline, with less successful results — captured by the narrow par-5 6th that skips twice over marshes and one of the most awkward second shots I’ve ever seen.
One reason the parts don’t mix is because the holes are scattered over 500 acres through a discreet housing community. Expectedly, there’s no sense of purpose to the placement of the holes and no opportunity to develop rhythm or interrelation. The journey feels aimless. Given the setting and sleek features there’s a sense the course should be building toward something more cinematic, but by the time you’re in the home stretch a different sentiment has set in: apathy.
Despite some strong moments (the par-5 13th along the lake and the short par-4 16th with a small green that slopes away), one walks away from Shark’s Tooth feeling like it’s essentially no different than Norman’s Grande Lakes in Orlando or Tiburon, but with better scenery. The two bunker material, for instance — crushed coral shell in the waste areas and softer white sand around the greens — seems like a useful idea once, but shouldn’t be a calling card (nor should shark-themed names). Ultimately, this shark’s teeth lack bite. (87)
Panama City Beach
Architect: Greg Norman Golf Course Design
Opened: 2002