Hazeltine National belongs firmly in the second category.

As the KPMG Women's PGA Championship returns to Minnesota this week, the venue once again finds itself at the centre of the golf world, nothing new. Hazeltine has spent almost six decades doing exactly that.

Tony Jacklin won a U.S Open here. Payne Stewart survived a Monday play-off. Y.E. Yang became the first Asian-born men's major champion after staring down Woods in one of the great final-round performances. The 2016 Ryder Cup produced one of the defining atmospheres of the modern era, and Hannah Green announced herself as a major champion there in 2019.

In an age where golf courses are increasingly judged by aesthetics, social media appeal and how many birdies the world's best players can make, Hazeltine remains a reminder that major championship venues serve a different purpose.

Modern professional golf has never been deeper. Players hit it further, train harder and arrive better prepared than ever before. Equipment continues to improve. Data drives decision-making. The margins separating the best players in the world have become increasingly small.

Yet the challenge facing championship golf remains unchanged.

How do you identify the best player under pressure?

Hazeltine has always provided a straightforward answer. Make them earn it.

From the back tees, the course now stretches towards 7,700 yards. It will not play anywhere near that length this week, but distance has never been the defining characteristic of the venue. What has always separated Hazeltine is its ability to expose indecision.

Fairways narrow in the landing areas, rough punishes missed targets, and recovery shots quickly become survival exercises. Players are constantly asked whether to attack or defend, and both decisions carry consequences.

For years, that brutality attracted criticism. Some viewed Hazeltine as overly severe. Others argued it lacked the strategic subtleties of some of the game's most celebrated venues. Yet championship golf has always needed places willing to push players to their limits.

Part of the enduring appeal of major championships is that they ask players to solve different problems. Augusta National tests imagination, The Open Championship often tests adaptability, and U.S Open venues traditionally test patience.

Hazeltine tests conviction. That was true when Sandra Spuzich won the U.S Women's Open in 1966. It was true when Y.E. Yang refused to wilt against Tiger Woods in 2009. It was true when Hannah Green led from start to finish in the 2019 KPMG Women's PGA Championship.

The modern women's game has evolved rapidly. Yet Hazeltine arrives as a timely reminder that major championships are not supposed to be comfortable.

Defending champion Minjee Lee appears perfectly suited to the examination. Her game is built around patience, discipline and elite ball-striking. She understands that major championships are rarely won by avoiding mistakes altogether. They are won by managing them better than everybody else.

And there will be mistakes this week.

The best major championship venues are not remembered with rose-tinted glasses because they produce low scoring or spectacular visuals. They are remembered because they reveal something about the champion standing on the 18th green on Sunday evening.

Hazeltine has spent decades doing exactly that.

By the end of the week, another name will be added to its history. Like those before them, she will not simply have survived one of golf's toughest examinations, but she will have answered the questions Hazeltine asks better than anyone else.