The closest I have come to Augusta is 183 miles. That’s how far the home of The Masters is from Atlanta, where I’ve covered baseball and hockey games. The closest I have come to playing Augusta, the world’s most famous golf course, is living vicariously through two friends who played it — free, as golf writers — the day after The Masters.
Both enjoyed the course that Bobby Jones built and Jack Nicklaus owned, by winning The Masters more than any other invited guest: six times. Yet my buddies’ lasting impression of playing Augusta had nothing to do with course conditions, pin placements or fast greens:
“The changes in elevation,” they said of their tee times with destiny.
In other words, the hills at Augusta are alive with surprises. This kind of up-and-down rarely comes across on TV, no matter how big your screen is. And while the winners and pin placements and weather conditions always change, the layout doesn’t… or didn’t.
Last September, Hurricane Helene ravaged the golf course, along with much of the southeastern U.S., leaving her mark in a way that cynics might have called revenge for how Augusta National treated women for far too long. They say more than 1,000 trees were blown away and that, despite the cosmetic repairs that only an organization like Augusta can apply, the evidence will be visible to “patrons” from past Masters galleries. They also say that people like us who watch on TV won’t hear much about it, such is the demanding, in-house relationship between The Masters hierarchy and its long-time television partner, CBS.
A critical eye might notice that two of the Amen Corner greens (the 11th and 12th), which are often in the shadows of the tall lines, have more natural sunlight. Or that there seem to be fewer flowers framing Magnolia Lane. However, Augusta has had six months to deal with nature’s penalties by doing things like replacing the destroyed 16th green and making whatever visual changes are necessary to make it all look like nothing ever happened.
Since 1934, there has been nothing in golf quite like The Masters. The golf course was designed by Jones and Scotsman Alistair MacKenzie, who previously designed the Cypress Point course at Pebble Beach. Jones played Cypress Point, loved it and invited Mackenzie to visit him in Georgia. The result was Augusta National, a course that inspires the presence of azaleas and magnolias and tall Georgia pines in a way that connects them to golf like no other course in the world.
For 89 years, except for two during World War II, botany and birdies have been linked at this first coming of each season’s golf majors with names like Nicklaus, Palmer, Player, Watson, Mickelson and Woods. Perhaps because you can’t win the four majors until you win the first one, The Masters commands international golf attention… also because it likes to be portrayed as a worldly event, tariffs or not.
In other words, no golf season starts until The Masters. That’s when your clubs come out of hibernation, you participate in golf pools, and you resume watching golf on TV. That’s what happens, even when the closest you’ve been to Augusta is 183 miles.
