From the tournament’s inception, the goal has been to put on the finest golf tournament possible. According to revered golf writer Herbert Warren Wind there were many factors that turned the Augusta National Invitational tournament into the spectacle that it is today, including Bobby Jones’ influence, the quality of the field, and the diligence and precision of Clifford Roberts, just to name a few.
Yesterday was one of the most exhilarating days of golf I’ve ever experienced. The energy of every patron marinated across the hills of Augusta National Golf Club and baked in as the afternoon sun blanketed the golden grounds.
I left the property with the notion confirmed there can never be a finer viewing golf experience than the Masters. The tournament strips every impurity that has pervaded the game into an elegant, simple occasion for golf fans of the purest intent. The moment you check your phone into security, true liberation from the hyper-communicative world takes place — no texts, tweets, push notifications, status updates, twitpics, or checkins for the rest of the day. When your oxygen supply to real time updates is removed, the tournament replaces it with something even better, even sweeter.
The Masters Tournament challenges each patron, it challenges you to amplify the already amazing experience of just being there on Sunday. It forces each patron to come up with a game plan. Who do I want to watch? What parts of the course should I see? What quality of golf viewing do I want to have? Is it worth it to follow one golfer but likely miss some of their shots on the most popular holes? All of these are questions that each patron asks themselves.
Bobby Jones laid out a great blue print to view golf at Augusta National, however our strategy was to view the most compelling golf by the widest arrange of golfers. To execute this, we placed our chairs around the 18th green in the morning and positioned ourselves in the grandstands right of 15, deep enough where we could view the 16th tee and green as well. This guaranteed us at least four or five shots from the finest players in the game on two of the most exciting holes with a guaranteed spot on the final stage.
Once you’ve decided on how to take in the day, now comes the part of doing it — easier said than done. If you’re going to witness almost every shot on 15 and 16 at Augusta National Golf Club during the Masters it’s going to have to be earned. For example, the seats we wanted started filling up at 10:00 a.m., 45 minutes before the first group teed off and at least four and half hours until the first group stepped foot on the hole!
Many patrons came, waited, and left because it was either too hot, too uncomfortable, or were just too impatient. The experienced viewers came with the Sunday Augusta Chronicle or other golf reading literature. The groups that had more than one person had an advantage because someone could ‘save’ a seat, at least until the first group came through. So here we were, 3-4 hours out from a single golf shot with total strangers, no phone, and the twelve o’clock sun toasting us in the dark green grandstands, miserable right? No, and here’s why. These golf fans traveled from all over the world for this day and shared the anticipation of knowing what was about to unfold in front of us surpassed any current discomfort.
There are only a few options: sit and think, talk with your neighbors, read, and/or guess who just made what based off the roar of the crowd on the other end of the course. I enjoyed talking with my neighbors. It was fascinating to get their perspective on the excitement they had for the day and the journey they took to be here. In the span of 6 seats we had a young married couple from Washington D.C. whose parents were taking care of their 7 month old in Auburn, Alabama. Three Japanese men whose support for Matsuyama and Ryo was inspiring. Lastly was Dan, a single dad from southern California in town with his golf group who are playing in South Carolina this week.
We all shared a love for the moment, a respect for where we were, and a realization that this was going to be an afternoon none of us would forget.
The energy compounded as each group came through 15 and 16. More people, closer roars, and greater anticipation for the leaders to take the tee. Many Atlantans who frequent the tournament would rather watch the Sunday round from the comfort of their home in order to “see every shot.” Over the years, I understood their point, but after experiencing this Masters, I’ll never concede to it again.
What’s lost to the home viewer is the purest way to view a golf tournament. As mentioned earlier, everything that could taint the experience is stripped entering the club — no cameras, no phones, only golf. This changes habits of information consumption. You have a limited idea what’s going on outside of your physical world; roars on 11, 12, or 13 create complete guesses to the masses only a few hundred yards away. Word spreads like a wildfire through the crowd and hopefully it’s spread to you before being manually posted on the leader board.
A game within a game begins and reactions to the scoreboard many times surpasses the action occurring on the hole.
However, there are those moments where the waiting, baking, and sweating are more than worth it — in our case it was Tiger’s approach into 15. We watched 80% of the players hit their shots on the green only to have their ball trickle off the back edge producing a delicate chip shot back towards the water. Knowing he needed to perform well on 15, Tiger landed his ball only yards away from the flagstick and with a little release, left himself an eight foot putt for eagle. The crowd erupted, multiple high fives to many more strangers took place and everyone appreciated the brilliance of that golf shot.
After the final group in contention hit their shots on 16, there was a rush to get back to the most elevated hill on the grounds, which of course holds the 18th green. We managed to find our seats in the sea of patrons and as I sat down, I realized that this was it — this was the moment of the truest golf viewing experience I’ll ever have. The smell of sweat on not only myself but other tightly packed sunburned patrons was coated with cigar smoke from cigars on their last few breaths. The collective crowd’s only priority was viewing the finish to the finest golf tournament in the world — nothing else mattered. For some reason, Yankee stadium in the 1930′s and 40′s came to mind, I’m still not sure why.
The leader board game continued as Charl Schwartzel birdied his final four holes to cap off one of the finest Masters tournaments in my lifetime. It was an experience like no other, produced by traditions like no other — the 2011 Masters Tournament.
