Perspective is the guidepost of a successful endeavor. Some know that I coach a girls golf team that competes in a Toronto-based league. When you coach golf, you also drive the little bus. Many is the time that I’ve pulled into a course, offloaded the team and gear, and struck up a conversation with one of the other drivers. Unlike me, they drive professionally for their schools. They welcome me as one of their own, at least until they learn that I’m not a driver by profession. Then, their welcome and courtesy persevere, but a sliver of distance develops. I don’t have the perspective that they do. The same goes for writing. I love to write, and I love to take photographs. Recently, I’ve been bitten by the video bug.
Jack of all trades; master of none.
Since I was young, I’ve respected and revered the great photographers, writers, and videographers. I did a turn as a Communications minor in college, and interned at a local television station. Stories matter to me, and stories of truth matter most. In an age of artificial intelligence, some photos are not photos. Some videos are deep fakes, and some words did not take direct root from a human hand. I value the ability to create a funny, featured image for my stories, but that’s as far as I go on the AI Express. I prefer for material to originate from my eyes, ears, mouth, nose, and brain.
During the three-day waiting period of Monday to Wednesday of Masters week, we are at the Masters, but not really. Patrons are on the grounds, and special events (like Amateur, Champions, and GWAA dinners) take place at the Augusta National. In the fourth estate, writers predict, suggest, infer, and often critique, the only major men’s championship held on the same golf course each year. That element of difference makes Augusta and its Masters tournament both a stronghold and a target. Allow me the largesse to make a comparison.
Bethpage Black knows how to host a US Open and a PGA Championship. When it came time to host a Ryder Cup, things were different. Rather than an individual tournament, where fans have favorite players, the Ryder Cup brings out the worst jingoism in some attendees. Rather than two waves on Thursday and Friday, then one wave on Saturday and Sunday, the Ryder Cup features four morning matches, followed by four afternoon matches on days one and two. There is a lot of time to kill, and those present often resort to alcohol to fill the empty spaces. Ryder Cup was an awakening for Bethpage Black, as it was a one-off. If it hosted again, it would have a blueprint for its course and its events. There’s a reason that The Belfry in England was such a European advantage; it thrice held the event, and might have gone on doing so in perpetuity, had Seve Ballesteros not demanded a playing in his home country of Spain.
The Masters, as at least two journalists have written, is one of sport’s great stadia. Each year, post-competition, the entire grounds and enactment are scrutinized, and improvements are made. Land is purchased, and tunnels and buildings are constructed. The Augusta National Golf Club, the one sits in that small entrance along Washington Road, is a constantly-evolving design. It contains an 18-hole championship golf course, a 9-hole, par-three layout, two practice fields, short game facilties, a media center, a player hospitality center, cabins for overnight guests, a center for agronomy and grounds, and a clubhouse. Beneath the course lie technological wonders that allow the putting surfaces to reach simultaneous equality and perfection. Along the perimeter of the property, a system of underground corridors allows all manner of equipment and supply movement, to ensure that what happens on the surface is not disrupted nor distracted.
With all of this historical knowledge, many wonder what can go wrong? What might folks find worthy of complaint? The answer might lie in that very essence of repetition. When something happens again and again, it can be viewed as either reliable or redundant, depending on perspective. It is the task of the many club committees to assess what needs to stay, what needs to go, and what needs to arrive. The par-three contest has evolved over the years. Once viewed as a semi-serious competition among the invitees, it has evolved into a picnic wherein children and relatives serve as caddy, partner, and entertainment. This is a chosen, cultivated direction, and it presents a familial side of Augusta National not seen in the time of past club presidents and tournament directors.
As you watch the tournament this week, consider the you that watched the event last year, and five years ago, and ten years back. Consider what you enjoyed most and least, what you remember most, from each year’s playing. Like the part-time bus driver, and the part-time writer, and the part-time photographer, the part-time golf fan can benefit from a review, and reassessment, of perspective.
