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Seeing is believing at awesome Augusta
04/11/06
by Clay

When a friend calls you and says, "I've got an extra ticket for the Masters practice rounds," you go -- no matter what.

This is particularly the case if you are like me and have never attended a golf major and the invitation is to the Masters. So on Sunday afternoon, my friend Weatherholt and I embarked on a drive from Nashville, Tenn., to Augusta, Ga.

As a golfer, I rank somewhere between horrific and awful. Whenever I hit a shot that lands on the green farther than 10 yards away, I feel like whooping with joy. So I approached the Masters course with all the excitement of someone who watched the tournament on television for years and never expected to actually be there, and not with the expert eye of someone who regularly attends these events or has abundant skill at golf.

So this column isn't about why someone should have used a 3-wood instead of a 3-iron, but instead about simply what being on the course at Augusta National truly feels like for a fan. In typical Deadly Hippos fashion, I've laid out a numerical accompaniment of my Masters foray. Here goes:

1. Last year I was tested for allergies and came back allergic to 11 of the 13 objects they tested me for. I was even allergic to such rare objects as trees and grass. In fact, the only thing I was not allergic to was mold. Somehow this seems like an extreme evolutionary disadvantage. I disclose all this because every time I watch the Masters it appears that every flowering and budding object on earth is in bloom. Shockingly, there also appear to be abundant trees and grass. As we left Nashville, my only concern about the course was that I might not be able to breathe. As concerns go, this seemed fairly significant. For instance, if I collapsed during Tiger Woods' back swing would he confront and berate me?

2. Our tickets were for Monday morning and the gates opened at 8. Our hosts informed us that we should exit at Washington Street in Augusta. Unfortunately, there was a backup of a couple of miles on the interstate. Ordinarily this would not be a big issue. It sort of became one because I had neglected to fill up the gas tank that morning. Also, I almost forgot my tennis shoes and for a while thought I might have to wear flip-flops on the course. This would have violated Weatherholt's wife's wardrobe advice: "Tell Clay not to dress like Clay."

3. The Masters neighborhood is not that spectacular. For some reason I expected it to be in the middle of a genteel antebellum neighborhood. Instead it is the only golf course I've ever been to whose directions could include the phrase, "When you pass Hooters, you are almost there." In the midst of the drive I did learn via a banner outside the restaurant that John Daly is taking his golf preparation really seriously. So seriously, in fact, that he is appearing on Tuesday evening to sign autographs at this Hooters. There is a 100 percent chance that if I were still in Augusta on Tuesday evening, I would be there.

4. Post-Hooters, we get very nervous about the parking situation. Everyone has told us that there is free parking at the Masters itself, yet, for some reason, tons of people are turning off the road and paying $20 to park in K-Mart-esque parking lots. My friend Weatherholt is a man who has never seen a dollar he couldn't save and he steadfastly refused to pay for parking. I think he would have walked from Aiken, S.C., if necessary. On fumes, we turned into Gate 6 of Augusta National and parked for free. It was our first solid move of the day.

5. No cell phones, large bags, coolers of beer or nunchakus are allowed upon entering the course. Chuck Norris was really upset.

6. Entrance to Augusta proceeds down a narrow walkway flanked by the pro shop and the Masters museum. Then all of a sudden in front of you is an expanse of green as far as you can see. I imagine that this is the golfer's version of the white light people see when they die. It's this close to overwhelming the senses.

7. Then you actually step onto the grass and it is so soft beneath your feet that you want to just lay down and take a nap. Seriously, this grass is softer than most beds.

8. All around me, grown men are walking around with silly grins on their faces like they are 5 and just woke up on Christmas. Weatherholt and I immediately set out to walk the back nine. Put simply, words cannot do these holes justice.

9. It's been my experience that television can sometimes steep places with an aura they don't otherwise embody in person. For instance, Duke's Cameron Indoor is about as nice as a 100-year-old YMCA in your hometown that no one visits anymore. Yet, put that gym on television and it seems to glisten with age, memory and renown. Augusta National is the exact opposite. Whatever shots you see on television do not capture the ambiance and experience of this golf course. Color explodes around every corner. It's simply breathtaking.

10. The par-5 15th and the par-3 16th holes might be the most beautiful 700 yards on earth. From the fairway at 15 you can pause and look across a meandering brook over to the palette of colors that frame the backdrop for 16. Catch the perfect angle and you can see all the colors of the world reflected in the pond that serves as the 16th green's famous obstacle. It's the only place I've ever been where taking a divot of grass during a shot would make me sick to my stomach.

11. As we stand on the 15th fairway, Weatherholt talks about Gene Sarazen's double eagle in 1935 that was known as The Shot Heard 'Round the World. "If I slept, ate, and lived on this hole for the rest of my life, I don't think I could ever get a double eagle," Weatherholt says in words that could be echoed by virtually every guest that day.

12. Woe to the visitor who bestrides the white-marked lines that are set up for observers to cross the fairways. Older men in yellow construction hats with their hole number written on the side sit like gatekeepers of ancient castles. On the 17th fairway, Weatherholt asked if this man could take our picture in front of the famous Eisenhower pine. In so doing, half of Weatherholt's right foot crossed the white line. "Stay inside the lines," said the construction-hat wearer gruffly. But to his credit he did take our photo.

13. Time for my confession: I arrived at the course without pen or paper, despite having planned to take notes. So I had to purchase the only pen for sale in Augusta National. A $15 keepsake Master's pen. Yep, fifteen bucks. Weatherholt would have sooner written with his own blood.

14. While there are no cell phones allowed on the course, there are banks of telephones replete with complimentary long distance. Unfortunately, I don't know anyone's phone number any more because everything is stored in my cell phone. Thankfully, my parent's number has not changed in my lifetime. So I called them. Upon answering my mom said, "How come you didn't call my cell phone?"

15. All around us there are workers in yellow jumpsuits picking up trash. They look like a prison work crew in the Garden of Eden. During the time I was on the course, I didn't see a single object of trash. I suspect this was because the guys in the yellow jumpsuits were so good at what they did, and also because every person visiting the course feels to a certain degree like I did: namely, marring these grounds with trash is the equivalent of a mortal sin.

16. As we walked the grounds, the most frequent discussion I overheard was about the best and worst golf shots that people would hit on the different holes. Very few people talked about their most likely shot. This is interesting since golf is a game that demands consistency, yet every fan who stood alongside the course automatically thought of either their best or worst shots. I'm sure there is some psychological significance to this, but I'm not intelligent enough to know exactly what it is.

17. Weatherholt and I engage in a discussion about whether or not we could make par if we started every hole already on the green at the farthest distance from the pin. "It would be close," Weatherholt says by way of summation after much analysis. For the record, I think I'd be over par.

18. Underrated fact about the course? How hilly it is. I've never really gotten the feeling that the course was one of expansive vistas and rolling hills, but it certainly is. From the tee boxes at one and 10 you can look out over the entire course sweeping along beneath you.

19. How much like a living museum is Augusta? Even the water fountains are covered with plaques commemorating important events. This meant that actually getting a drink of water from these fountains always leads to one infringing on pictures. Yep, people even stand around snapping photographs of the water fountains at Augusta. Right now somebody just got home and is thinking to himself, if this guy who was breathing like a freight train hadn't been drinking here, this picture would be perfect. For the record, my allergies were not bad and at this point I was no longer concerned about being berated by Tiger for collapsing during his back swing.

20. It's amazing to me how many spectators on the course are dressed like they are about to play a round of golf themselves. Now I'm thinking of wearing shoulder pads and a helmet to each football game I attend this fall. Seriously, at least half of the people walking Augusta could step onto the course in a moment's notice if given clubs and be ready to play. I suspect this is the point, should there suddenly arise a call from the first tee, "Hey, we need somebody to tee off with Tiger." I wonder how many people would bring their golf bags and carry those around, too, if they didn't violate the entrance rules.

21. The Masters should be applauded for being the only sporting event I've ever attended that didn't absolutely gouge fans for food and drink once inside. The most expensive available sandwich? Try $2.50. Beer was just $2. My meal of a barbecue sandwich, chips, and lemonade was $3.25. With those prices, I felt like I was back in elementary school. At any stadium or arena this meal would have cost the captive fan at least fifteen bucks. Unfortunately for me, upon beginning my meal, I did a poor job reading the grounds and my lemonade turned over despite the ground appearing even. Lesson: Augusta is even treacherous for lemonade.

22. The coolest thing we saw: On the 16th, after hitting normal tee shots, the crowd regales the golfers with chants of, "Skip, skip." At first I had no idea what was going on -- but I learned. Each golfer will proceed to just before the pond, place a new ball down, and then attempt to skip his ball across the surface of the pond to the green beyond. This is simply amazing to see. Each golfer is capable of skipping the ball as if he were in the rock-skipping world championships. If the ball makes it all the way across without sinking, the crowd erupts in cheers. This was definitely the loudest hole of Monday as you could hear the 16th from anywhere on the course.

23. Notice I haven't talked much about the players. This is because during the practice rounds, the early part of the day was filled with awe over the course itself as opposed to the players on the course. And then Tiger teed off and the golf course came alive. It was almost as if word that Tiger was teeing off was a great cloud sweeping over the rolling hills. And suddenly there was a stampede toward the first hole.

24. Weatherholt and I craftily skipped ahead to the par-three fourth hole to catch Tiger coming through. Unfortunately, the two of us combined have the map-reading skill of an unintelligent fourth-grader. It's then the full scope of the grounds becomes apparent. After much wandering, we manage to find the fourth green just before Tiger tees off.

25. As players arrive on the green, they pay scant attention to holing their tee shots and instead focus on putting in directions where currently there are no holes. Often they place a tee in the ground and practice their green reads. On the fourth hole, Tiger places three puts so close to the tee and each other that the balls are all almost touching. Then he does the same thing with short pitches from the fringe. Unlike every person in attendance, Tiger probably doesn't spend much time thinking about his best and worst shots. He just does the same shot again and again.

26. After watching Tiger tee off on five, the entire grandstand clears out. This is despite the fact that it is a warm day and Vijay Singh is teeing off directly behind Tiger. Weatherholt and I stay seated and I have the time to jot down this equation: Vijay Singh + heat inertia = one-third Tiger Woods. I don't want to go overboard, but I'm pretty confident this is the golfing equivalent of E=mc2.

27. The Masters Gift Shop looks like the line at Disneyworld for Space Mountain. It snakes its way around and around and takes at least 10 minutes to filter through. Inside the prices are extraordinary: $55 is the cheapest men's polo. And the shirt prices go much higher. Weatherholt is apoplectic. "No way I'm paying that for a Masters shirt," he says, "No way." Earlier I had suspected that the crowd on the golf course was the richest group of people I had ever been among. Now it is confirmed. I spend about three minutes standing just outside one of the registers listening to the totals being read off by the cashiers -- $765, $248, $919, $362, and $193 were five random sales in a row. But from what I understand, this is the only place that you can buy Masters logoed products -- and after my experience on the course, even I feel compelled to buy two polo shirts. Somehow, in my mind, a polo shirt has assumed all the properties necessary to make my Masters experience tangible and not just some verdant dream.

28. As a final image, after being on the course for about seven hours, Weatherholt and I finally succumbed to a desire to lay down on that grass as soft as a bed. While we are laying there, in the shade of the towering pines, I hear, "Hey, here comes Tiger." Off to my left, Tiger Woods comes striding up the fairway in pursuit of his drive. For a moment he is ahead of the onrushing tide of people behind him and I have a clear view of his purposeful stride. Then he is gone and the wake of his followers wash over our napping area. Somehow the vibrant and varied colors of Augusta are for the first time that day matched by the vibrant and varied colors of his fans. Ultimately it leaves me with this thought: The future of golf is as colorful as its most beautiful course.

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