There are events, mainly holidays, that mark the passing of time and, for lack of a better way of putting it, the rhythm of the year. For golfers, or even those simply interested in sports, the Masters is such an event. The Masters marks the arrival of Spring and the start of the major championship golf season, with long summer days just ahead.
I started playing golf when I was 11 or 12 at a nine hole public course outside of West Des Moines, Iowa. I often played golf with my mother, who was a good athlete and a decent golfer. Although I never was good at it, my personal interest in golf waxed and waned throughout the years, reaching its height in the 1990s. Golf, often considered an unfair game, provided a nice respite from my law firm, where things at the time were really unfair.
My wife took up the game and we pretty much arranged our few private hours, including vacations, around the game. Golf took us on trips to Canada, Ireland, and other places. We also had some short trips to North Carolina and Florida with my parents, as Dad had also resumed playing. It's not surprising, I guess, that I have played very little since Mom died in 2008.
Through it all, we were fans of the professional game. We were fans of Jack Nicklaus when he played. The Masters was always a centerpiece. Through a few lucky connections, I was able to attend the Masters several times in the 1990s. We also got to go to practice rounds, and I was able to take my parents for practice rounds on two occasions, which made me very happy. I especially remember Ben Crenshaw, quite improbably, winning in 1995.
If you have never been to Augusta National, it is something to behold. First, it is located just off a road that could literally be "Anywhere, U.S.A." As soon as you enter the gates, however, it becomes magical. It really is as beautiful as Jim Nantz says, and looks like every blade of grass was clipped with manicure scissors. Everything is predominantly green with bright splashes of color from dogwoods, azaleas, and the spring attire of the patrons (the Masters has "patrons," not, God forbid, "fans"). The course is very hilly, much more so than is apparent on television. Although it is very difficult to obtain tickets (badges, actually), they are not overpriced, and the concessions are downright, well, inexpensive (I don't think the Masters folks would like me to say "cheap"). The folks at Augusta National really know how to put on a a tournament.
But now we get to the crazy and generally awful year of 2020 where the world has been turned upside down by a virus. The Masters will be held this week, in the middle of a very strange football season and just before Thanksgiving. There will be no patrons and thus no need for concessions, including the iconic pimento cheese sandwich (the chicken sandwich is actually much better, I think). There will be none of the famous roars through the pines in appreciation of great shots. It will be interesting to see how the course looks--green for sure and maybe a hint of late fall color. We will have to see about flowers.
Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player will presumably be there on Thursday morning for the ceremonial first tee shots. Tiger Woods is the defending champion. Jim Nantz will be there to extol the course's many virtues.
Despite these familiar figures, it will not be the same. The Masters will end the championship golf season instead of beginning it. Some will argue that the Masters should have been cancelled in 2020, as was the Open Championship.
As for me, I guess a very strange Masters in November is better than no Masters. But it truly will be a tradition unlike any other.
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