What makes the Masters so special anyway?
Man, headline writer. We were all about to settle into our green folding chairs, munch on pimento cheese sandwiches and be soothed by a piano (this one), and now you want us to get all existential? To get Georgia on our mind?
You got it, though.
Here, then, are nine ways the Masters is special. (And if you like, we’d be happy to hear your thoughts on the question. Please send ’em to nick.piastowski@golf.com.)
Masters, Masters, Masters — away from the Masters
While the Masters is at Augusta National, everyone in town rolls out the red (green?) carpet during tournament week. Along Washington Road, there’s Tbonz, which serves, yes, T-bones and other meat and potato items, along with a healthy amount of golf sodas, and there’s Top Dawg, where John Daly will now appear, after the spot where he had posted up during Masters week, Hooters, was torn down. Explore more, and nearly every store notes the Masters or Augusta National, or has an azalea-themed cocktail, or offers a pimento-cheese pancake, or all of the above.
Some of it is corporate. But a good part of it is genuine, Southern-charmed local. Don’t get this wrong — everyone is happy to take your money. But, for the most part, folks are happy you came, especially if you explore past ANGC.
Golf Disney World. Or Golf Vegas
No, the Masters doesn’t have a mouse mascot. (LOL!) Or slot machines. (LOL!!!)
But, much like what you’d find in Orlando or Sin City, the event has that feeling of everyone just being really, really happy to be there. No one’s irritated. Folks have touched the turf. They’ve reached the end zone, crossed home plate and scored the goal. Now it’s soak-it-all-in time. Buy the damn shirt, drink the damn beer, salute the damn birdie. It’s infectious, too.
There’s also a bit of line blurring. Who’s that next to you? Is that Larry from Ohio? Or is that Larry Fitzgerald, one of the best to ever play wide receiver. And everyone’s walking the grounds of one of the most exclusive clubs in all the world.
Adding to it all?
It’s also the unofficial start of spring.
An engineering marvel
My dream Masters 1-day fan itinerary for Augusta National first-timers
By:
James Colgan
We’re not talking about one of the holes (though we will in a sec).
It’s the main merch building.
Think about it. Every patron on the grounds wants something. Coffee cup. Dog bowl. Stuffed-pimento-cheese-sandwich doll. (All have been purchased by this correspondent.) So a strong majority of the patrons make their way to the main merchandise building.
The line reflects that. And yet it always seems to move.
People wait outside the building, then inside. But there’s always something in which to look.
Once you’re let in, the number of people outnumber the pieces of clothing you can buy. Yet seemingly everything is always well-stocked.
You check out. But if you don’t feel like lugging around that piece of artwork, you can have it shipped home.
Then have an ice cream sandwich. The main concession stand is right next door.
Oh yeah, the food and drink
There are the sandwiches, 10 in all — egg salad, pimento cheese, chicken salad, barbecue, club, ham and cheese, chicken, savory tomato pie, chicken biscuit and breakfast sandwich. Most are wrapped in a green bag.
And there are snacks.
And there are drinks.
The menu isn’t champagne and caviar. But it gets the job done. And priced to get you seconds.
TV doesn’t do the place justice
This is meant to be no knock against those who broadcast the tournament. Their work is colorful and compelling. The viewer at home sees infinitely more action than you would on the grounds, simply because cameras have more eyes.
But your own are wowed by the elevation. It’s hard to find a flat lie.
And it’s really difficult to find something out of place. Don’t worry about dropping a potato chip on the ground, because you can practically eat off of it. (Editor’s note: Don’t, but you get the point.)
No. Phones.
Masters-inspired artists play (and paint) by their own set of rules
Enough said.
It’s great to unplug. In your email, it’s great to write, “Out of office … AT THE MASTERS.”
But should you need to make a call — there’s nothing wrong with double-checking a shirt size — there are a few spots at Augusta National with free-to-use phones. Your loved one is going to love seeing the Georgia area code pop up — or be envious. But they’ll pick up.
Tradition(s) unlike any other
There are a few. Here is a partial list, not including Jim Nantz call the tournament “a tradition unlike any other”:
–The Champions Dinner, where the previous winner hosts past winners for a meal
–The Par-3 Contest, where participants, alongside friends and family, play the Par-3 Course on the day before the tournament.
–Skipping balls on 16, where, during practice rounds, players skip tee shots across the water on the par-3 hole.
–The white caddie jumpsuits — caddies all wear the same clothing.
–The words — “fans” are called “patrons;” the “front nine” and “back nine” are called the “first nine” and “second nine;” and the “rough” is called “the first cut.”
–Honorary starters — previous legends mark the start of the Masters with ceremonial tee shots.
–Green jacket ceremony, where the previous year’s winner fits the newest winner with a green jacket, the prize given to champions
–Patrons’ own traditions. Regular attendees — notice no use of “fans” — usually have their own must-dos. Same route in. Same meal. Same viewing spot.
The golf
Yes, they play that at the Masters, too.
The story behind the Masters’ famous pimento cheese sandwich
What makes it special, though, is the context. The previous winners and losers. The past heroics and flubs. You remember the Tiger chip and the Jack putt. You don’t forget the balls lost into Rae’s Creek.
There’s a connection to the golf played at the Masters.
The course is also one of the world’s best, and invites are chased year round. You’re going to see excellence.
Speaking of …
You’re also going to see something
Something always happens at the Masters. Some things, actually.
The tournament, its atmosphere, its course and its players make you want to watch, for fear of what you may miss if you don’t. There are always moments. Unusual ones. Extraordinary ones.
New ones start Thursday.

