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.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Fathers, Sons and Baseball
With the beginning of every baseball season comes memories of my late Father, who loved two things more than anything else: my Mother, and the Atlanta Braves.
After watching the Braves play last week, I was hit once again with one of those times where I wanted to talk to him about the beginning of another season. Of course, those phone conversations were challenging. He had a way of talking about a player, but getting the name slightly wrong. “You know that Andrew Young (Andrew Jones) in the minors is going to be the best centerfielder in the game one day.” “I hope they find a spot for that Ryan Kelso (Ryan Klesko) since he can really hit.” And of course, the biggie, “If we can get Terry Pennington (Terry Pendleton) to hit like he did in 1991, we might win the Series this year.”
Dad passed in 1996, just a few months after his beloved Braves won the World Series. His passing reminded me of other perfect finishes in the game he loved, like Ted Williams hitting a home run in his last at bat, or Cal Ripken going deep the night he broke Lou Gehrig’s all-time consecutive games played streak. After years of last place finishes, which never shook Dad’s love for his team, he left this world at the right time.
The first game my Dad ever took me to was in 1973 in old Tiger Stadium as Detroit played Cleveland. He had a few PBR’s on the way to the park, and sure enough, around the third or fourth inning, Tiger infielder Dick McAuliffe hit a deep drive into the left field seats. Dad saw the ball, leaned forward to catch the souvenir, but unfortunately, all he caught was the next few rows of seats below us. He spent the next few innings buying concession items for the people below us who had their food squashed or spilled by his sprawling body tumbling down the seats.
Dad passed down his love and passion for the game to me, just as his father did for him. Years later I found out Grandpa loved baseball, just as much as he liked to sip the barley at the stadium. The first game he ever took my father to went down to the ninth inning when his hero, Hank Greenberg, hit a two strike pitch into the center field bleachers for a Tiger win. As the custom of the times, fans threw their straw hats on the field, like Frisbees, and Gramps was no exception as he got caught up in the moment. When they got home, Grandma asked what had happened to his hat, and when she smelled the beer on his breath, she pieced it together since that wasn’t his first rodeo at Tiger Stadium. He spent the next few nights on the couch.
Dad taught me about the finer points of the game, as far as strategy and ability were concerned. He also taught me how important it is to show class when a player on the opposing team makes a great play. He was in the seats one afternoon at Ebbets Field when Cardinals Hall of Famer, Stan Musial, was given a standing ovation by the Brooklyn fans after he personally crushed their Dodgers with his hitting and fielding. Sometimes, especially later in his life, he would tear up when he would tell me stories of going to games with Grandpa, or when he talked about seeing Brooks Robinson make a great play at third base, or a masterful pitching performance by Tom Seaver. I would snap him out of his sentimental journey by mentioning his arch nemesis, Boog Powell, whom he hated. “If I was pitching, I would knock that Boog Powell on his fat keyster every time he stepped up to the plate,” he snarled, then opened another PBR.
Things are a little busy around the house these days because my wife and I are getting ready to start a team of our own. As you can imagine, I don’t have as much time to watch the Braves, but seeing the game the other night brought my Father closer to me, at least for a few hours. I wanted to pick up the phone and ask him what he thought of this year’s team and if they had a chance to go to the Series. He probably would have said, “You know, if that Ryan Langerhouse (Langerhans) has a good year, we might just make it.”
After watching the Braves play last week, I was hit once again with one of those times where I wanted to talk to him about the beginning of another season. Of course, those phone conversations were challenging. He had a way of talking about a player, but getting the name slightly wrong. “You know that Andrew Young (Andrew Jones) in the minors is going to be the best centerfielder in the game one day.” “I hope they find a spot for that Ryan Kelso (Ryan Klesko) since he can really hit.” And of course, the biggie, “If we can get Terry Pennington (Terry Pendleton) to hit like he did in 1991, we might win the Series this year.”
Dad passed in 1996, just a few months after his beloved Braves won the World Series. His passing reminded me of other perfect finishes in the game he loved, like Ted Williams hitting a home run in his last at bat, or Cal Ripken going deep the night he broke Lou Gehrig’s all-time consecutive games played streak. After years of last place finishes, which never shook Dad’s love for his team, he left this world at the right time.
The first game my Dad ever took me to was in 1973 in old Tiger Stadium as Detroit played Cleveland. He had a few PBR’s on the way to the park, and sure enough, around the third or fourth inning, Tiger infielder Dick McAuliffe hit a deep drive into the left field seats. Dad saw the ball, leaned forward to catch the souvenir, but unfortunately, all he caught was the next few rows of seats below us. He spent the next few innings buying concession items for the people below us who had their food squashed or spilled by his sprawling body tumbling down the seats.
Dad passed down his love and passion for the game to me, just as his father did for him. Years later I found out Grandpa loved baseball, just as much as he liked to sip the barley at the stadium. The first game he ever took my father to went down to the ninth inning when his hero, Hank Greenberg, hit a two strike pitch into the center field bleachers for a Tiger win. As the custom of the times, fans threw their straw hats on the field, like Frisbees, and Gramps was no exception as he got caught up in the moment. When they got home, Grandma asked what had happened to his hat, and when she smelled the beer on his breath, she pieced it together since that wasn’t his first rodeo at Tiger Stadium. He spent the next few nights on the couch.
Dad taught me about the finer points of the game, as far as strategy and ability were concerned. He also taught me how important it is to show class when a player on the opposing team makes a great play. He was in the seats one afternoon at Ebbets Field when Cardinals Hall of Famer, Stan Musial, was given a standing ovation by the Brooklyn fans after he personally crushed their Dodgers with his hitting and fielding. Sometimes, especially later in his life, he would tear up when he would tell me stories of going to games with Grandpa, or when he talked about seeing Brooks Robinson make a great play at third base, or a masterful pitching performance by Tom Seaver. I would snap him out of his sentimental journey by mentioning his arch nemesis, Boog Powell, whom he hated. “If I was pitching, I would knock that Boog Powell on his fat keyster every time he stepped up to the plate,” he snarled, then opened another PBR.
Things are a little busy around the house these days because my wife and I are getting ready to start a team of our own. As you can imagine, I don’t have as much time to watch the Braves, but seeing the game the other night brought my Father closer to me, at least for a few hours. I wanted to pick up the phone and ask him what he thought of this year’s team and if they had a chance to go to the Series. He probably would have said, “You know, if that Ryan Langerhouse (Langerhans) has a good year, we might just make it.”
Monday, April 9, 2007
Manic Monday
By Jason Chatraw
Sunday Paper Sports Editor
The Atlanta sports world was buzzing Monday as a flurry of activity with a number of different teams has our heads spinning. Here's all you need to know:
... Mike Hampton is done for the season, the club reported Monday afternoon. Hampton, who has a career record of 138-101 with a 3.97 ERA, tore a flexor tendon in his left elbow, requiring surgery that will shut him down for the a second straight season. ... Now he has told me before of his deep love for NASCAR, but if he wants to follow racing that bad, he can retire. At his age, I don't ever see him returning with the impact that he once had. Usually pitchers recovering from injuries like he sustained don't really return to form until their second year back, which means Braves fans won't have any production to look forward to until 2009. Sadly enough, baseball may have seen the last of him.
...Joey Harrington became the latest lousy signing by the Falcons on Monday. Once a highly-regarded quarterback, the former Oregon product has watched his stock drop faster than Ernon. He bumbled his way through Miami last season and frankly isn't going to help the Falcons' chances of winning in 2007. Look for some great spin doctoring to be put on this one by the Falcons--and don't expect this to be a memorable move during the '07 offseason.
... Josh Smith was suspended by the Hawks for two games for his alleged profanity-laced tirade against head coach Mike Woodson. Hmmm. Let's see. Joe Johnson is shut down for the season, as is Josh Childress. And now Smith's two-game suspension with two to play. The Hawks are 2.5 games ahead of Milwaukee in the race for the No. 3 draft pick--a must for the Hawks or else they forfeit the pick to Phoenix in the trade for Johnson. If the Hawks get one of the top three spots, they get to keep the draft pick. So, is this a ploy to look like you're not trying to win the last five games of the season without looking like you're not trying to win the last five games of the season? Chat with me, "Let's go, Bucks! Let's go, Bucks!"
... The Braves took a well-deserved day off after cooling down the New York Mets and seizing first with the best record in the Major Leagues. And it was the bullpen that shined the most. Braves GM John Schuerholz is looking like a genius just one week into the season. But there are 156 games left to be played, so let's reserve judgment until we've played at least two months of baseball. However, at this stage, Schuerholz at least deserves to be smiling on the inside.
This week looks to be another juicy one as well for Atlanta sports fans as NHL Playoff hockey makes its first appearance in the ATL and the Braves welcome the Florida Marlins and Washington Nationals to town. The Hawks even have a crucial showdown with the Bucks ... "Let's go, Bucks! Let's go, Bucks!" ... Wouldn't it be sweet to see Greg Oden dominating the post complemented by Johnson, Smith, and Childress. Ah, we can dream, can't we?
Sunday Paper Sports Editor
The Atlanta sports world was buzzing Monday as a flurry of activity with a number of different teams has our heads spinning. Here's all you need to know:
... Mike Hampton is done for the season, the club reported Monday afternoon. Hampton, who has a career record of 138-101 with a 3.97 ERA, tore a flexor tendon in his left elbow, requiring surgery that will shut him down for the a second straight season. ... Now he has told me before of his deep love for NASCAR, but if he wants to follow racing that bad, he can retire. At his age, I don't ever see him returning with the impact that he once had. Usually pitchers recovering from injuries like he sustained don't really return to form until their second year back, which means Braves fans won't have any production to look forward to until 2009. Sadly enough, baseball may have seen the last of him.
...Joey Harrington became the latest lousy signing by the Falcons on Monday. Once a highly-regarded quarterback, the former Oregon product has watched his stock drop faster than Ernon. He bumbled his way through Miami last season and frankly isn't going to help the Falcons' chances of winning in 2007. Look for some great spin doctoring to be put on this one by the Falcons--and don't expect this to be a memorable move during the '07 offseason.
... Josh Smith was suspended by the Hawks for two games for his alleged profanity-laced tirade against head coach Mike Woodson. Hmmm. Let's see. Joe Johnson is shut down for the season, as is Josh Childress. And now Smith's two-game suspension with two to play. The Hawks are 2.5 games ahead of Milwaukee in the race for the No. 3 draft pick--a must for the Hawks or else they forfeit the pick to Phoenix in the trade for Johnson. If the Hawks get one of the top three spots, they get to keep the draft pick. So, is this a ploy to look like you're not trying to win the last five games of the season without looking like you're not trying to win the last five games of the season? Chat with me, "Let's go, Bucks! Let's go, Bucks!"
... The Braves took a well-deserved day off after cooling down the New York Mets and seizing first with the best record in the Major Leagues. And it was the bullpen that shined the most. Braves GM John Schuerholz is looking like a genius just one week into the season. But there are 156 games left to be played, so let's reserve judgment until we've played at least two months of baseball. However, at this stage, Schuerholz at least deserves to be smiling on the inside.
This week looks to be another juicy one as well for Atlanta sports fans as NHL Playoff hockey makes its first appearance in the ATL and the Braves welcome the Florida Marlins and Washington Nationals to town. The Hawks even have a crucial showdown with the Bucks ... "Let's go, Bucks! Let's go, Bucks!" ... Wouldn't it be sweet to see Greg Oden dominating the post complemented by Johnson, Smith, and Childress. Ah, we can dream, can't we?
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