There is exactly one hole on the PGA Tour where a player can hit a perfect shot and still not hear it land. Where beer rains from the sky after an ace. Where the crowd doesn't politely clap — it detonates.
The 16th hole at TPC Scottsdale is a 162-yard par 3. On paper, it's unremarkable. In practice, it's the most important hole in professional golf — not because of its design, but because of what it represents about the sport's future.
The WM Phoenix Open is underway this week, and the Coliseum is open for business again. This year, it's bigger than ever. But the story of how this hole went from afterthought to spectacle is worth understanding, because it holds lessons for everyone who cares about the game's trajectory.
A "Solid Par 3" With No Grand Ambitions
When Jay Morrish designed TPC Scottsdale's Stadium Course in 1986, working alongside Tom Weiskopf and Tour pro Howard Twitty, the 16th was described simply as a "solid par 3." The course opened in late 1986, just a month before the Phoenix Open moved there in January 1987 as part of the PGA Tour's Tournament Players Club initiative — courses designed specifically with spectators in mind, featuring natural amphitheater-like settings and room for grandstands.
The Stadium Course concept was forward-thinking for its era. But no one looked at the 16th and predicted what it would become. The hole itself doesn't do anything exotic. It's short, relatively flat, and doesn't feature the dramatic elevation changes or water hazards that make other par 3s famous. The genius was never in the hole. It was in the space around it.
The Slow Build: From Five Skyboxes to 20,000 Seats
The transformation didn't happen overnight. According to longtime hole marshal Jock Holliman, "the cachet of the 16th hole started in the early '90s." The natural bowl surrounding the green lent itself to temporary structures, and in 1992, construction began on what would become the Coliseum — initially just 11 corporate boxes seating around 500 people.
Then, in 1997, Tiger Woods changed everything.
During Saturday's third round, Tiger hit a 9-iron from 162 yards. The ball landed on the green, took one bounce, and disappeared into the cup. What followed was unlike anything golf had ever seen. Beer cans flew through the air. The bleachers physically shook. Tiger threw up the raise-the-roof gesture as he walked from tee to green. His playing partner's caddie, Rusty Uresti, later called it "the loudest roar I've ever heard in my life."
That moment didn't just make highlight reels — it rewired the tournament's identity. Where once stood five skyboxes, there are now 294. The grandstands grew year over year, swelling to hold over 20,000 spectators around a single par 3. The 16th became the only fully enclosed hole on the PGA Tour, and the Phoenix Open leaned into what it had stumbled upon: proof that golf fans, given permission, will show up with the energy of a football stadium.
The Moments That Built the Legend
Tiger's ace was the catalyst, but the hole has kept delivering. In 2015, Francesco Molinari made a hole-in-one that sent the crowd into a frenzy. But the moment that truly cemented the 16th as a modern phenomenon came in 2022, when Sam Ryder hit a 9-iron during Saturday's third round that landed four feet right of the pin, checked, spun left, and rolled into the cup.
The reaction was volcanic. Drinks flew from every direction. It took a full 15 minutes to clean up the mess before the group could continue playing. The clip went everywhere — social media, SportsCenter, late-night shows. For a sport that often struggles to reach younger audiences, that 15-minute chaos was worth more than any marketing campaign could buy.
And it's not just the aces. Near-misses produce roars that rattle players on adjacent holes. A tee shot that finds the bunker gets booed. A clutch birdie putt gets a standing ovation from 20,000 people who've been standing all day. The hole has its own gravitational pull, and it bends the entire tournament around it.
2026: The Coliseum Gets a Rebuild
This year, the Thunderbirds — the organization that runs the Phoenix Open — started from scratch on the Coliseum construction. The rebuilt grandstands are 100% reusable, with wider corridors and more food and beverage access throughout the structure.
The biggest addition is the new "Pin-Hi" Club, a fourth-story lounge located under the main grandstands at putting-surface level. For a separate daily ticket, patrons can watch approach shots arrive from the same elevation as the green — closer to the action than some players' caddies.
There's also a new indoor retreat space behind the 16th green, designed as a respite from the intensity. Which tells you something: the atmosphere has gotten so overwhelming that the venue now needs a decompression chamber.
Why the 16th Matters Beyond Scottsdale
Here's the deeper question: is the 16th hole good for golf?
Traditionalists will argue that the circus atmosphere disrespects the game. That golf is supposed to be quiet. That concentration matters, and players shouldn't have to perform inside a stadium that actively wants to distract them.
They're not wrong about the distraction part. But they're wrong about what golf "is supposed to be."
The Phoenix Open regularly draws over 700,000 fans across the tournament week, making it one of the best-attended events in all of professional sports — not just golf. The 16th hole is the centerpiece, and it draws people who might never watch a golf tournament otherwise. These aren't golf purists. They're sports fans, and the 16th speaks their language.
The PGA Tour has spent years trying to solve its engagement problem. Television ratings fluctuate. The average viewer age keeps climbing. LIV Golf's entire pitch was built on the idea that professional golf needs more energy, more entertainment, more spectacle. Meanwhile, the 16th hole at TPC Scottsdale has been quietly proving for three decades that the answer was never about shotgun formats or team names — it was about giving fans a reason to care about a single moment.
Every sport has these pressure cookers. The 18th at Augusta on Sunday. The 17th at TPC Sawgrass with its island green. But the 16th at Scottsdale is different because the crowd isn't just watching — they're participating. They are part of the test. A player standing on that tee box isn't just managing wind and yardage. They're managing 20,000 people who will either canonize or roast them based on where the ball ends up.
What Amateurs Can Take From This
You'll never play in front of 20,000 screaming fans. But the 16th holds a lesson for every golfer: context changes everything.
A 162-yard par 3 is the same distance whether it's the 16th at TPC Scottsdale or the 7th at your local muni. But the circumstances around the shot — the pressure, the stakes, the noise in your head — completely transform the challenge. Tour pros talk about how the 16th requires a different kind of focus, not the standard "quiet your mind" approach, but active engagement with the chaos.
Next time you face a pressure shot — first tee with a crowd behind you, a carry over water with your match on the line, a three-footer to win the Nassau — remember that the skill isn't blocking out the pressure. It's playing through it. The players who thrive on 16 aren't the ones who pretend the crowd isn't there. They're the ones who feed off it.
The Greatest Show on Grass
The WM Phoenix Open calls itself "The Greatest Show on Grass," and for once, the marketing slogan isn't an exaggeration. The 16th hole is the proof.
It started as a solid par 3 with good bones and some open space. Nearly four decades later, it's a 20,000-seat stadium that generates more noise, more social media clips, and more pure energy than any other 162 yards in sports. It didn't need a redesign. It didn't need gimmicks. It just needed the space to let fans be fans.
Golf doesn't have to choose between tradition and spectacle. The 16th at TPC Scottsdale proves that both can exist — and that sometimes, giving people permission to get loud is the best thing you can do for a quiet sport.
