The U.S. Open is upon us — a tournament more readily described as a battle than a golf tournament.

The greens are rock hard and lightening fast. The rough chews up golf balls with blades of grass measured in feet, not inches. But what truly separates the tournament from others is the mental anguish that players who hope to hoist the trophy must endure.

U.S. Open venues are one of the few times professionals look like amateurs sweating over 8-footers for par all day and struggling to break 80, and Merion should be no different. If Mother Nature cooperates, the players won’t be complaining about course conditions (see: Shinnecock Hills in ‘04), or course length (see: Bubba Watson at The Olympic Club). Rather, the focus of this year’s grievances could be with what lies atop the 7-foot pole that protrudes from each putting surface.

The USGA has confirmed that the flagsticks, or as Merion calls them “standards,” will stay true to the Merion Golf Club tradition, using red wicker baskets instead of flags.

The origin of the long-standing tradition is a mystery, with the only known detail being that William Flynn, the golf course superintendent, received patent approval for his wicker basket design in 1915, according to the Merion Golf Club website.

In golf, the flagstick indicates hole location, providing players with a specific spot to aim on the green. The flag is sometimes color coded to show whether the pin is on the front, middle or back portion of the green. Precise players read the direction the flag is blowing, and use that information to determine how the golf ball will react as it approaches the green.

Modern day professionals are as precise as they come, especially those looking to win the U.S. Open, so without the assistance of a flag to indicate wind speed or direction, the players will lose a hint of precision. Some will be more vocal or animated in their disapproval, but all players must deal with the nuisance.

During this year’s U.S. Open, expect additional blades of grass thrown skyward, and multiple looks to the treetops by players struggling to determine wind influence. Also, expect the announcers and commentators to have some corny quips about how it’s a “basket stick” rather than a flagstick. Some of you will laugh, but I’ll have seen it coming.

Ben Hogan’s U.S. Open victory in 1950 at Merion Golf Club came without enduring the burden of wicker baskets, as this was the last time the tradition was ignored. Since then, all of the USGA championships held at Merion have kept with tradition.

The winner this week, as with all winners of USGA titles at Merion, will receive a customary red wicker basket in addition to the trophy and the almost $1.5 million paycheck. Most of the players will hate those baskets by the end of the week, but all of them will be fighting to take one home.