The Masters

The sensory cues are all in place: I can see the sun setting later each day, the birds, the local rabbits and other critters are active, and tufts of green grass are starting to show here and there in lawns that are still mostly dormant. I've got a tasty mouthful of remnants of my kids' chocolate bunnies from the fridge. In my hands are the winter's editions of golf mags as I scan them for season-starting tips; I'm holding my 5 iron, practicing my swing in the living room (when the Boss isn't around) and debating whether my first lesson of the year should come before my first tee time.
Then my aural radar picks up the song - "Augusta" - the song they play during Masters coverage. It's a promo for CBS or ESPN, and Master's week is still a week or two away, but those first few notes trigger Masters fever in me in a way that few other things trigger any kind of reaction. Of course, there's that cologne that an old girlfriend used to wear that triggers some pretty strong reactions, but this is a "golf" blog.
The (British) Open Championship, and the U.S. Open have longer histories, and may indeed be more difficult to win, but I would argue that The Masters is the premiere golf championship of the year. I'm still learning about the origins of all the tradition and ceremony that make it so special and so familiar. Start with its heritage as Bobby Jones' August Invitational.... Bobby Jones! Is any other tournament so closely identified with a particular person, any person, and a legend no less? I may never go to Augusta National, but I know all about Magnolia Lane, and the Champions locker room. I know that each hole has a name, I know about Rae's creek, Hogan's Bridge, Butler Cabin, Eisenhower's tree, and the countless other landmarks - it seems there's one visible in almost every shot shown on TV. If there are other tournaments that begin with a contest on their par 3 course, I've never heard about it. Two words: "Amen Corner." Who wouldn't agree that the 12th hole is the most famous par 3 in all of golf? Azaleas, and more azaleas.
Doesn't everyone know that once you put on a green jacket, you're "in" for every Masters for life until you use your own good judgment to walk away? To underscore how important tradition is, just look at what happened when they tried to take those lifetime privileges away.... Tradition is what makes this championship unique - the only major that's played in the same place year after year. When you watch The Masters, you're not just watching a round of golf, you are watching The Continuing Story of The Masters being told, re-told, and appended.
All that tradition provides the strong, reliable, foundation, but what really makes this the premiere golf event is the competition. Think of the most famous rounds, the most famous shots, the most famous wins in golfdom. Think of those moments that keep us coming back, those moments where the unbelievable occurred, where magic happened. Tally'em up, and tell me if you don't find that more of these incredible moments happened at The Masters than all of the other tournaments (not just majors) combined. Who won't be watching this coming week, hoping, even expecting, to see a moment like Nicklaus winning his final major? Like Tiger's unforgettable chip-in on 16? Like the incredible Sunday duel between Ernie and Phil on Easter Sunday before hearing Jim Nance ask, "Is it his time?"
The caddies shall wear white coveralls. CBS shall play that theme song, and there shall be limited commercial interruption. There shall be expanding, but still limited TV coverage. The attendees in the gallery shall be called "patrons." The greens shall be fast, the sand white, the fairways impeccably groomed, and the azaleas almost ridiculously colorful. These, my friends, are among The Standards. Violate them at your peril. They seem a little silly at times, but The Standards combine with the tradition and history to set the stage for the event that unfolds each Spring. The first few notes of "Augusta," like the dimming of a theater's house lights, cue us to sit back and lose ourselves for a little while.
This coming week, I'll be lost, somewhere down Magnolia Lane.

GF