Ten days from now the most revered and prestigious sporting event in America will begin its four-day run. It's known simply as The Masters--the first of professional golf's four major tournaments each year, and the most coveted championship any golfer can win. Why is it the most coveted? More than any other sport, golf is built on its traditions--and The Masters is steeped in golfing lore and legend. The tournament was founded by Bobby Jones and Cliff Roberts in 1934. Jones remains one of the game's great legends, the winner of more major championships than any golfer except Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods. During one remarkable stretch between 1923-1930, Jones won 13 of the 21 major championships played during that period.
In 1931, Jones and Roberts purchased the Fruitland Nursery, a former indigo plantation in Augusta, Georgia and hired Dr. Alister McKenzie to design a golf course there. The course opened in December 1932 and the first Masters tournament was played in April 1934. Of the four major tournaments (which also include the U.S. Open, the British Open, and the PGA Championship), only The Masters is played at the same course every year. And what a course it is. Augusta National is not the most challenging course for today's modern players, although it has undergone significant changes over the years to remain a world class course for professionals. But it is one of the most beloved venues in all of professional sports.
I had the great honor to be able to attend this tournament in 1995 and again in 1996. I was living in Atlanta at the time and a friend had connections. He was able to get me single day passes, which enabled me to enjoy one of the most memorable days of my life. Why? I got to take my dad with me to The Masters. For those of you who've never had the chance to be there (and only a lucky few of us have), let me try to describe the experience for you...
I remember when I was growing up, and I would watch The Masters and the sportscaster would introduce the tournament as "The Masters from Augusta, Georgia". And then I would see these amazing pictures of the azaleas and the dogwoods and the redbuds and the brilliant green bentgrass and I would think Augusta must be one of the most beautiful small towns in America.
It isn't.
That was the first impression I had when I drove the three hours outside of Atlanta to Augusta. It wasn't of the course itself. It was of the dumpy, honky-tonk town of Augusta. I saw the main street filled with billboards for everything from Waffle House restaurants to Wal-Mart to Holiday Inn. I saw that not only were the streets not paved with gold, but the asphalt was buckling and the potholes needed filling after the recent winter frost.
And then we parked my car and walked to the gates of Augusta National. And all I can say is that--if that golf course is not Heaven, Heaven can't be far away. The course is absolutely pristine. Every fairway is perfectly green, the walkways are covered in pine straw, and--best of all--the azaleas, the magnolias, the dogwoods are all bursting forth in a showy splash of spring glory. Although I can't verify it, I've been told that the groundskeepers at Augusta National watch very closely the timing of the peak bloom of the azaleas and--if it's been a warm spring and they're ahead of schedule--will bring in tons of ice to slow down the plants until Masters Week.
When Dad and I visited, we had our plan. Get there really early. Make a beeline for the famous Amen Corner, which consists of the famous 11th, 12th, and 13th holes. Place our seats as close to the golfers as we can get at the 12th tee. And then take in golf history in an absolutely glorious setting. The 12th hole, also known as Golden Bell, is a treacherous Par 3 which requires the golfer to hit a postage stamp-sized green while shooting over Rae's Creek. What makes the hole so challenging is that the afternoon winds become particularly unpredictable and tempestuous, and are agonizingly difficult to judge. A par is as good as a birdie, and many tournament leaders have lost it all on this hole when their ball wound up in the creek.
In that 1995 tournament, we saw Jack Nicklaus, who had made the Friday cut but was not competitive in the tournament. We saw Greg Norman, a young Phil Mickelson, Tom Watson, Davis Love, and the eventual winner--an emotional Ben Crenshaw, who had lost his friend and mentor Harvey Penick just days before the tournament began.
We also saw the very first Masters appearance from a young player from California named Tiger Woods. He was playing as an amateur that year and finished in 41st place.
A couple of little anecdotes: at almost any major sporting event, you go prepared to being held up by the concessionaires. After all, they have what's called a 'captive audience'. If you want a sandwich or something to drink, you can't very easily leave the stadium or arena or--in this case--the golf course to go to the nearest McDonald's. But you don't get held up at Augusta. I remember paying $1.25 for a ham sandwich and 90 cents for a Coke.
Another anecdote: the sandwiches were wrapped in green wax paper. Why? Because if a patron (the tournament's name for the spectators) is careless enough not to put his or her wrapper in the garbage cans, they will at least blend into the emerald green landscape so as not to detract from the breathtaking ambience of the golf course.
Sometimes, we experience moments that we know we will carry with us for the rest of our lives. That day with my dad at Augusta National is one of them.
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