Much as the solitary, small bunker dimpling the green's front border is one of my favourite design teasers, I'm right with Jeff Mingay when it comes to deriding the sandy fetish that sees the approach to too many greens reduced to air travel only.
Sure, the running shot onto the putting surface hearkens back to golf's formative years and that's all well and good but it also provides a simpler, more mouthwatering piece of theatre.
For when you hit even the most exquisite flighted approach, with the best will in the world you only really get to savour the last few seconds, when your ball finally descends and pitches within a foot or two of the hole.
Until then, your eyes are up and down like a fiddler's elbow, constantly flickering between the flag and your ball, high against the clouds, as you try to assimilate the two. It's like trying to enjoy a cabaret when the singer's in one room and the band in another.
With the low runner, on the other hand, it all unfolds right in front of you on a single plane - the distant flag, the ball scampering across the turf and the tantalising question of whether it has enough juice to get there.
There is a reason my heart sinks slightly whenever I see a green with a yellow doormat.
[Image via Wikipedia]
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Pic of the Day - Bermuda's Mid Ocean Club
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