It’s that time of year, when adults can’t wait for Thursday morning to arrive. They ask their children and their spouses if they can stay up all night, to catch a glimpse of that magical fellow. You know him. He brings a vibrant-green golf course, a babbling brook, a few ponds, bright white sand bunkers, and diabolical greens. He gave us Bobby Jones, Ben Hogan, Herman Keiser, Sandy Lyle, and many other names. Emounts his golf cart in late March or early April, and delivers to us the Augusta National Women’s Amateur, the Drive, Chip, and Putt finals, the Par-Three contest, and The Masters tournament. I’m talking about …
Augusta Claus
If I could get permission from his elves caddies to approach the throne, I’d ask for a few things from Augusta Clause. I wouldn’t be greedy, mind you. Just a few experiences that television simply cannot provide. What’s that? You’d like a list? Happy to oblige.
- For starters, just one pimento cheese sandwich. They don’t cost mich down Augusta way. A few dollars, if the internet is to be believed. They are gooey and tasty, so I’m told, and making my own just doesn’t cut it. I want the OGPC.
- A chance to walk under and, dare I hope, sit beneath, the Big Oak Tree outside the clubhouse. They say it’s like the setting of a Jardiance commercial, where happy people gather, on the cusp of dancing and singing. I think that I’d like that place.
- The opportunity to walk past the cabins, down the tenth fairway, to see how tall the hills measure. Television and cameras flatten everything, doncha know, and the incline is pitched pretty steep, folks have written. From ten green to eleven green, I imagine it’s less of a drop, but still memorable. Down the holler, as no one calls Amen Corner, I’d spend a little time in meditation.
- Doesn’t matter if you’re Hindu, Buddhist, or Shinto, water is a cetnral part of your meditation. Raes Creek, Floyd’s Pond, Seve’s Pond, Rahm’s Ripples…so many places to use H2O to calm my nerves, ease my mind, and chill my chakras.
- Make a call from Augusta. Free phone calls from their phone boot emporium. Why not use my cell? Not allowed. Leave them in the car or check them in, but you can’t carry them. No Tweeting, Toking, Gramming, Booking that day. If it’s a practice round, I’ll bring my camera and lens, as those are permitted.
- Enjoy the par three contest. Those are holes that I could play nearly as well as the pros, right? I like the idea of nine opportunities for an ace.
- Walk around the front of the clubhouse (if they’ll let me…they will) and walk down Magnolia Lane (if they’ll let me…they won’t.) AI tells me that patrons are allowed to walk into Founders Circle have a photo opp with their backs to Magnolia Lane. That’s kewl.
- Purch some Murch. They say that the logo for The Masters differs from The Club, and that there is elite murch in another part of the property. That’s a lot of espionage for me, so if you can promise me one garden gnome, I’ll smile and be on my way.
That’s enough for now. Maybe I’ll have some inspiration about other corners of the club that I’d like to see, some day. Or perhpas, just in my dreams.
