Most men I know play golf. Outside of my brother-in-law, most of those same men are about as bad as me. Now, don’t get me wrong, I only play maybe 3-4 times a year and live with a golf course right in our neighborhood.
It’s a strange love affair we have with this game. We can’t figure it out, yet most of us cannot get enough of it. Make “pars” on each round and you are a millionaire more than likely. Shoot just 2 shots a hole higher and you are like me, bound to spend millions trying to get better.
This week I experienced the true height of this incredible game as I was flown out to Augusta, Georgia, by one of our insurance providers for some practice rounds for the 2009 Masters. Only the best of the best get to play in this annual tournament worth millions, and it is a truly “members only” club. Rumors are that it took years for Bill Gates to get invited to become a member and President Bill Clinton was never invited though he repeatedly stated he wanted to play there.
This place is unreal. The grass outside of the course grass is so manicured it looks fake. Nothing like you see on TV. The course itself makes any other look like a putt-putt course. How anyone can par this course is unbelievable to me. As we sat there on “Amen Corner”, between holes 11, 12 and 13 watching players tee it off just feet away from us, I was truly in awe. Not only were these the golfers we admire and watch as we nap on Sunday’s, this place in every facet represented excellence to the extreme along with an old fashioned sense of integrity.
You could buy a small chair, set it up anywhere, put your belongings in the chair and leave for hours only to come back and find nothing was disturbed even if your chair was in the best spot on that hole. Lunch cost you less than $5. Beers were $2.50 and cokes were $1. Everyone was respectful, polite and incredibly helpful. The players themselves were fun, light hearted and super nice. Gift shop items were set at Target prices. And, trash was no where to be found. Even those that smoked put their butts in a trash. I was floored.
The Master’s is truly a Masterpiece.