Since the 18th hole on the Torrey Pines South Course is a 573-yard par-5, there's a decent chance that this week's U.S. Open golf championship will be won by someone who sinks a birdie putt on the 72nd hole.

But No. 18 may be one of the few birdie possibilities -- considering the surreal yardage that the USGA has arranged for the par-71 course near San Diego.

With at least two par-4s certain to measure a minimum of 500 yards, this Open has the feel of yet another installment of golf's 400 yards longer than any previous Open layout.

"The lengths are getting out of hand," said North Carolina golf coach John Inman, who played in three Opens, made two cuts and finished among the top 15 in the 1990 tournament at Medinah (Ill.) Country Club.

Inman was fortunate to hit a tee shot longer than 270 yards. At Torrey Pines this week, a 270-yard drive will leave players asking their caddies for a 5-wood, perhaps even a 3-wood, and in some cases, a shortcut to the parking lot.

"It's just hard to imagine that guys can deal with that sort of length," Inman said. "A few can."

But that's the problem with the USGA's insatiable thirst for size-matters courses. With such a premium being placed on monster tee balls, many players will have little chance of making the 36-hole cut, much less winning. It's reached the unfortunate point where power trumps prowess.

The basic problem, according to Vance Heafner, Prestonwood's director of golf, is the mad science of ball flight.

"Rather than making these Open courses longer, the USGA needs to spend more time figuring out a way to restrict the flight of regulation balls," said Heafner, who played in several Opens. "It isn't the design of irons, and it really isn't even the design of the woods, even the drivers. They make some difference, but not nearly as much as the distance of modern balls. The ball-manufacturing technology has just reached the point that most courses, especially older courses, don't have a chance to defend their honor."

By Open standards, Torrey Pines South, built in 1954, is an infant. Heafner, 53, and the son of a legendary player, was considered a tee-ball Hulk of his era. What he sees by obviously less-talented modern ball-strikers defies his logic.

"You just hit it as hard as you can, rely on the corrected flight of the ball to keep it somewhere close to the fairway, and then deal with where you land. That's a heck of an advantage, because you're almost always closer to the green," Heafner said.

Two of Inman's former Carolina players -- Kevin Silva and Fernando Figueroa -- survived the qualifying process to reach Torrey. Only Figueroa, in Inman's opinion, has the clout to overcome the course's expanse.

"Fernando can hit it a mile, and that's what it will take," Inman said. "There's still a place for the iron players and great putters in the Open, but it's becoming less and less of a place. I just don't like the trend."

That's an issue the USGA eventually will be forced to consider. Tiger Woods is the best golfer in history. Even Jack Nicklaus would be hard-pressed to dispute that assertion.

But at some point, golf will have to depend on the quality of the player rather than the dimensions of the course.

The game cannot define the length of a course as a measure of achievement.