The Masters golf tournament. A tradition unlike any other. It’s hard to describe something that words cannot justify. I had the opportunity to attend the Wednesday, April 10 practice round. How can a place be that nostalgic, beautiful, awe inspiring, and magical? I can’t exactly explain it but it’s real.
The sense of respect, decency, reverence, sportsmanship, and passion engulf every inch of the place. It’s plush and almost without fault. We entered the course looking like kids creeping down the steps on Christmas morning eager to see what Santa left under the tree. As the course unfolds before your eyes, you walk as if you are floating. Wanting to see it all instantly, but knowing you have to soak in every sight.
Everything at the Masters is just better. A $1.50 egg salad sandwich is 5-star worthy. The Georgia Peach ice cream sandwich is a heavenly treat. Patrons cling to plastic cups like they are holding their first child. Having a front row seat and to be up close and personal with the greatest golfers in the world is honestly a far second to the sheer beauty of the land you walk.
You never want to leave, but when you do you know you have experienced moments that will stay with you forever. Until next time, I will cherish the day where time stood still, we walked among the legends, and we drank deeply of the aura and majesty of Augusta National.
The Back Nine 