My Day at the Masters

Last week I got a chance to visit August National for the practice rounds at the Masters. Since this was my first appearance there, I was dubbed a “chipmunk” by my friends who had been several times before. “Chipmunk” is the official term for a rookie on their first day on the course. Rodent or not, I have to write how impressed I was with the experience. I am sure you are thinking it was because I saw Tiger Woods on the putting green, or watching Phil Michelson teeing off, but it was for reasons I never would have imagined.

For the crush of fans who invade the course that day, I have never been in a place run so efficiently in the way it handled the number of spectators who entered the grounds. If you go to a Falcons game, expect to wait in line for everything. At Augusta National, we walked to the line for the restroom, which spilled back towards the concession stand and thought, “This is going to be a long wait.” But that never materialized because the line moved and within a few minutes we were inside. As we got closer, we noticed an attendant bringing people into the restroom in groups, which sped things up, as well as the fact there were several spots open, so you didn’t feel as if you were in the middle of the dance floor in a Buckhead bar. Everyone dressed in green that day was professional and courteous, and it made you feel they were happy to have you over for the day.

At lunchtime, we made our way over to the concessions stand and as I pulled out my wallet, my buddy, Coach B, said, “Don’t worry about it Scoot, this isn’t Turner Field.” After his comment, I looked at the prices and was pleasantly surprised. Sandwiches were no more than a few bucks, drinks were about the same, and you could buy a beer without taking out a second mortgage on your home. Again, the line was long, but moved well and before long, we were on a picnic bench eating our sandwiches and talking golf with the other fans who asked to share our table with them.

After lunch, we walked over to the practice green to watch the putting. We passed by the immaculate condos constructed on the course, and envied the people on their porches, sipping drinks in their expensive clothes while watching the golfers. Maybe envied wasn’t the right word. Try, jealous. Once we got to the putting green, there was Tom Watson, looking awfully good for 58. His stroke was just as good as his looks. Later, we walked over to one of the greens and saw Ben Crenshaw practicing a few shots. After he finished, he walked right directly past us, exchanging pleasantries with some of the fans in the gallery, then disappeared into the crowd. We usually don’t get that close to Keith Brooking after he finishes practice.

I have to say my first trip to Augusta was one of those wonderful days that come along every so often that you will tend to talk about on more than one occasion. Now that I have graduated from being a chipmunk, does that mean I get to go back next year as a gopher? Well, as long as Carl from Caddyshack isn’t lurking about, I would say the chances are pretty good.