It’s one of the most wonderfully chaotic scenes in all of sports. Imagine it: a single golf hole, surrounded by 20,000 screaming fans, packed into a temporary stadium that rises three stories into the Arizona sky. The sound is a constant, deafening roar, a wall of energy that you can feel in your chest. This is the 16th hole at the WM Phoenix Open, affectionately known as "The Coliseum." For years, it has been a monument to spectacle, a testament to what happens when you turn a gentleman's game into a rock concert.
But what if I told you that this monument to glorious excess is about to become something far more profound?
The Thunderbirds and their title sponsor, WM, just announced a complete teardown and rebuild of the iconic 16th hole grandstands. The new structure, set to debut in 2026, will be bigger—four stories high—with better views and slicker finishes. On the surface, it sounds like a simple upgrade. A bigger party. But when I dug into the details, I honestly just sat back in my chair, speechless. Because what they’re building isn’t just a better stadium. It’s a prototype. A living, breathing blueprint for how we will build the temporary cities of the future.
This is the kind of breakthrough that reminds me why I got into this field in the first place.
The Sustainable Skyscraper You Can Pack in a Box
Let’s get one thing straight: building a 20,000-seat stadium for a four-day event and then tearing it down is, traditionally, a sustainability nightmare. The waste, the materials, the sheer carbon footprint—it’s the antithesis of the zero-waste ethos the tournament champions. But the new Coliseum is being built on an entirely different operating system.
David Brannon, a VP at WM, used two words that changed everything for me: "reusable" and "modular."
This isn't a traditional construction project. It's an assembly. Think of it less like building a house brick by brick and more like clicking together the most sophisticated, high-tech LEGOs imaginable. The new structure is a system of interlocking, prefabricated components that can be put together, taken apart, and reconfigured with a fraction of the waste and energy. This uses a modular design philosophy—in simpler terms, it means the entire stadium is designed from the ground up to be temporary without being disposable.
This is the leap. This is the paradigm shift hiding in plain sight. We’re not just talking about reducing construction materials for a golf tournament. We’re talking about a fundamental change in how we approach large-scale, temporary infrastructure. What does a world look like where we can deploy beautiful, safe, and resource-efficient structures anywhere on the planet? Could this technology be used to build emergency housing after a natural disaster? Or pop-up medical facilities in remote regions? Or even research stations in extreme environments? The questions this project raises are staggering.
This shift is a bit like the move from stone masonry to the steel frame in the late 19th century. Suddenly, buildings weren't limited by the weight of their own walls; they could soar. This modular, sustainable approach does the same for temporary structures. It uncouples them from the anchor of wastefulness, allowing them to be deployed with a conscience. It’s a vision that aligns perfectly with WM's broader strategy—a company whose stock performance is quietly impressive, but whose real value might be in these high-return sustainability investments that the market hasn't fully priced in yet.
Engineering a Better Human Experience
Of course, a technological marvel is meaningless if it doesn't serve people. And this is where the design gets truly brilliant. The new Coliseum isn't just a win for sustainability; it’s a massive upgrade for the human experience. The expansion to four stories, the higher ceilings, the wider viewing platforms—this is all about optimizing the flow of energy and excitement.
But the most fascinating part is the introduction of the "Pin Hi Club," a new section offering individual daily tickets. For the first time, you don’t need a corporate suite to get a premium, up-close view of the chaos. This is a deliberate act of democratization. It’s an acknowledgment that the magic of the 16th hole belongs to everyone.
Now, we have to talk about the "anomaly" from 2024, when overcrowding and unruly behavior briefly marred the event. Tournament Chairman Jason Eisenberg was quick to note those issues were solved by 2025, but I see the new design as the ultimate answer. It’s an attempt to use architecture to solve a social problem. Better crowd flow, more space, and more varied ways to experience the event aren’t just amenities; they’re subtle tools for shaping a better collective atmosphere. How do you design a space that encourages celebration over chaos? How do you build an environment that amplifies joy while mitigating friction?
This is the human-centric engineering I love to see—the speed of this innovation is just staggering, it means we're not just building bigger structures but smarter ones that understand and adapt to the psychology of the people inside them. We are designing an algorithm for a better party, and the entire world is invited to watch it run.
This Is More Than a Grandstand
Let’s be clear. What is being built in the Arizona desert is not just a place to watch golf. It is a quiet revolution disguised as a party. It’s a proof-of-concept for a future where our grandest celebrations don’t leave a scar on the planet. It’s a test case for how modular, reusable architecture can create flexible, pop-up infrastructures for any need, from entertainment to emergency relief.
This is where technology becomes truly inspiring—not when it’s loud and flashy, but when it’s seamlessly integrated into our lives, making them better, richer, and more responsible without us even noticing. The 20,000 fans who will pack into that new Coliseum in 2026 will be screaming for the golfers. But they’ll also be standing inside a blueprint for a smarter, more sustainable world. And that’s something worth cheering for.
