It happens every year like clockwork. It’s an occurrence as celebrated and anticipated as a birthday or anniversary and for golfers worldwide, probably more so. For those of us who live in the northern environs, the notion begins to take root during the Super Bowl, and football is finished for the season. It’s an eager, can’t-wait mentality that comes to pass as January snows recede and winter begins its slow melt into spring. The awareness thickens but gains speed in February when the PGA Tour moves to the West Coast, and network promotions start their tantalizing tease of green grass and palm trees swaying in the ocean breezes.
The realization approaches full flower when March Madness permeates the consciousness of sports-minded Americans coast to coast. The promise of spring that began with crocus, daffodils, and hyacinths gently poking through the winter snows,
now turns to magnolias, dogwoods, and azaleas blooming in perfect harmony amid the rolling hills and stately pines of Augusta National Golf Club in Augusta, Georgia. It’s the Masters, and for golf fans worldwide, the first full week of April is the official start of spring, regardless of what the weatherman says.
Whenever conversations reveal that I’m a PGA Professional who doubles as a broadcast journalist and regularly covers the major tournaments in professional golf, the subject will almost always turn to The Masters and the Augusta National. People ask the same question: “Is the golf course as pretty as it looks on TV?” And my reply is firm when I answer: “No, it’s even prettier and even more picturesque.”
No matter what people have seen or read on television, magazines, print, or broadcast mediums, nothing — and I mean nothing — can prepare them for how overwhelmingly beautiful Augusta National is in person. It is greener than green. It is verdant, velvet and plush. And it is true;
nothing in this world can prepare a person who has never set foot on the hallowed grounds of Augusta National for the genuinely breathtaking experience it is. From the moment you pass through the gates and enter the grounds, everything about the setting is flawless.
The first impression, for those lucky golf fans, owning a Masters ticket, is always how orderly the process is as thousands enter the gates that lead to Amen Corner, Magnolia Lane, the Sarazen, Hogan, and Byron Nelson bridges, and so many other landmarks etched in golf history. 
There is no running or pushing at the Augusta National. The second impression, and it never fails, people will slow, stop and then gaze at the wonder of it all. “Am I here?” they ask in wonderment as they collectively pinch themselves while being mesmerized by the beauty and perfection of every flower and blade of grass that greet their entry. The remarkable contrast between the ultra-green superimposed against the flowers’ splendor can be overwhelming as crowds stop to bask in the magnificence of the spectacle.
Those first impressions, the orderliness and cascades of color as you enter the grounds, have always confirmed to me that in a world fraught with commotion and diminished expectations, the Masters never disappoints.
The experience of attending the Masters has always been beyond the expectancy regardless of how grandiose those expectations are. It’s not just the flawlessness of the initial glance, although expected, when faced head-on in its totality, the overall grandeur the tournament summons is beyond comprehension. And soaring above it all is the pervasive hue of green that saturates the experience and extends all the way to the tournament’s culmination with the presentation of the green jacket that is bestowed on the champion and signifies one of the most coveted awards in all the world of sports.
Masters Week is the only time the world at large is allowed on the hallowed grounds of the ultra-exclusive Augusta National Golf Club.
Spectators respectfully referred to as “patrons” cannot enter the golf course where members, officials, or players do. Those favored few drive down Magnolia Lane to the historic clubhouse that predates the Civil War. For those golf fans lucky enough to have secured a badge to golf’s most exclusive event, the public entrance funnels visitors onto the first fairway, adjacent to the iconic scoreboard that serves as a sentinel, 
defending the portal to the cathedral of golf. The awe and reverence experienced while journeying from the entrance and then arriving onto the actual grounds are enough to drop golf fans to their knees and kiss the fairway grass, much like pilgrims embracing Mecca’s sacred shrine or the Basilica of Saint Peter. The religious feeling of seeing the grass’s greenness at Augusta is enough to take your breath away. More than once, I have heard people exclaim: “Is it real?”
But of course it is! Only it’s not like the grass in your backyard or a nearby park or local golf course. Think about it the next time you look around at those familiar landscapes and visualize the splotches of browns, greens, and yellows that are the norm. Augusta National is nothing like that at all, and it’s unnerving to even longtime visitors. Years of walking, searching, and looking around the place still astounds me that, to my recollection, I have never been able to find a weed or anything out of place wherever I might be on the course. The hand of providence must undeniably influence those charged with maintaining the grounds for mortal man alone cannot provide the loving care that goes into the grooming of each blade of grass, the flower beds, greens, and fairways.
Finding that elusive weed is something I always challenge my guests to do as they follow their favorite player up and down the rolling hills of the National. It’s amply clear there is no off-color, no browns and yellows; every blade of grass is the same height and perfect color. It’s a shade of green that imbues the eye as far as one can see, and it’s not only the grass.
Buildings, direction signs, garbage bags, scoreboards, beverage cups, sandwich wrappers, and just about anything else you can imagine is Masters green, and it’s a green unlike anything on this earth. Rumor has it that Augusta National members registered the color to prevent it from being duplicated by others.
I always convey to my guests the story of Masters Green and how it all blends in perfect harmony. A well-known tennis professional emphasized this point while he was my Master’s houseguest in Augusta a few years ago. Having traveled the world plying his trade, he was familiar with big-ticket events and the attention reserved for privileged invitees. There’s not much in this world he hadn’t seen, and he was not easily impressed by people, places, or things, but the Masters had always been on his bucket list, and I was happy to share the experience with him. And the experience did not disappoint.
One-day, mid-week of the tournament, I needed some fresh batteries for my tape recorder and had to leave the grounds to find the nearest convenience store. My tennis pro guest wanted a break and offered to accompany me. As I searched for the right size of a battery at the store, he dispensed himself a fountain drink to take along the way. Hurrying back to the golf course and media center, we encountered security. My friend remarked to me: “There was no way the security guards will let me take this drink on the grounds.” Sure enough, as we entered the gate, the guard stopped us and asked my friend for his cup. He looked at me with that “I told you so” smugness. But what happened next is the stuff of legend. The guard very politely took his brightly-colored, commercially printed drink cup and poured my friend’s beverage into a fresh, Master’s green, logoed cup and said: “There you go, sir.” To this day, my tennis pro friend delights in telling this story about his Master’s experience and the green cup he still proudly displays among his hard-fought and won sports memorabilia.
The Master’s Tournament is a unique time, and the Augusta National is an exceptional place, unlike any other golf course on the planet, known for its beauty and the challenge it presents to the best players in the world. Nevertheless, the tournament also serves as a barometer of the season. This story’s message is the promise of spring always begins with hints of many shades and many colors. Still, the start of spring is never complete without the picture-perfect greenness of the Masters — “A Tradition Unlike Any Other.”
Jeff Waters is a PGA Master Professional and a member of the Golf Writers Association of America.
To read a history of the Master’s Golf Tournament, please go to http://www.jeffgolfguy.com/a-brief-history-of-the-masters-tournament/http://www.jeffgolfguy.com/a-brief-history-of-the-masters-tournament/.
