It happens every year like clockwork, an impending awareness of more than the calendar flipping its pages from the dreariness of last year’s season of melancholy into this year’s renewal of hope, promise, and reassurance of more pleasant days ahead.
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 playing of the Super Bowl, and football draws to a close for the season.
It’s an eager, can’t-wait mentality that comes to pass as January snow recedes and winter begins its slow slog into spring.
The awareness thickens and gains speed in February when the PGA Tour moves to the West Coast Swing, and television network promotions begin their tantalizing tease of green grass and palm trees swaying in ocean breezes.
The realization approaches full flower when March Madness permeates the consciousness of sports-minded Americans coast to coast when CBS announcer Jim Nantz begins his suggestive countdown with highlights of the tournament interspersed between the final four basketball games.
The promise of spring that first 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 Golf 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 reply: “No, it’s even prettier and more picturesque.”
It doesn’t matter what people have seen or read on television, in magazines, in print, or any broadcast medium.
Nothing — and I mean nothing — can prepare the casual golf enthusiast for how overwhelmingly beautiful Augusta National is in person.
It is greener than green.
It is luxuriant, velvety, and lush, like walking into the Garden of Eden where perfection, while expected the reality in the present tense, is heightened and overwhelming.
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.
Everything about the setting is flawless from the moment you pass through the gates and enter the golf course.
The first impression for those lucky golf devotees owning a Masters’ ticket is always how orderly the process is.
As thousands and thousands of fans stream through the gates leading 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, pushing, or yelling at Augusta National.
The reverence shown for the setting is infectious and palatable.
The second impression never fails; people will slow, pause, stop, and then gently nod in respect and adoration at the wonder of it all.
“Am I here?” they ask in amazement as they collectively pinch themselves while mesmerized by the beauty and perfection of every flower and blade of grass that greet their entry onto the surroundings.
The remarkable contrast between the ultra-green of the perfectly manicured grass superimposed against the splendor and abundance of flowers can be overwhelming as crowds stop and bask in the spectacle’s magnificence.
Those first impressions, the orderliness and cascades of color as you enter the gardens, have consistently confirmed that in a world fraught with commotion and diminished expectations, the Masters never disappoints.
The entire experience unfailingly exceeds possibilities, whatever those likelihoods, thoughts, or satisfactions you might have assumed or considered before you arrived at Augusta.
The involvement of attending the Master’s has always been beyond the expectancy regardless of how grandiose those expectations are.
It’s not just the flawlessness of the initial momentary appearance.
However, you anticipated that first moment, when faced head-on in its totality, everything about that split second of realization and awareness of the grandeur and magnificence of the full-blown effect the panorama musters in person is beyond comprehension.
And soaring above it all is the pervasive hue of green that saturates the entire 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 the world of sports.
That solitary first week in early April is the only time the outside world is allowed on the venerated playing fields of the ultra-exclusive Augusta National Golf Club.
Spectators, referred to as “patrons,” do not approach the golf course where members, officials, or players do.
Those favored, privileged few honored to be participants of that exclusive alliance enter historic Magnolia Lane and arrive at the celebrated clubhouse that predates the Civil War.
For those golf devotees 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 respect experienced while journeying from the entrance and arriving at the playing area are enough to drop golf fans to their knees and kiss the fairway grass, much like pilgrims embracing the sacred Shrine of Mecca or the Basilica of Saint Peter.
The religious feeling of seeing the greenness of the grounds 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, a nearby park, or a local golf course, not even close.
Think about it the next time you look around at those familiar landscapes back home, and picture 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 astound me that, to my recollection, I have never been able to find a weed, broken branches, damaged signage, inoperative equipment, or anything out of place wherever I might be on the course, clubhouse, driving range, or media center.
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 grooming each blade of grass, flower beds, putting greens, fairways, or infrastructure.
Finding that elusive weed is something I constantly challenge my guests to do as they follow their favorite player up and down the rolling hills of the Augusta National Golf Club.
It’s amply clear there are no off-color, 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 Master’s Green, and it’s green, unlike anything on this Earth.
Rumor has it that members of Augusta National registered the color to prevent it from being copied or duplicated by others.
I always convey to my guests a story of Masters Green and how it blends so perfectly with the overall atmosphere and setting of the competition.
A well-known Tennis Professional emphasized this theme vividly while he was my Master’s houseguest in Augusta a few years back.
Having traveled the world pursuing his sport, he was familiar with big-ticket events and the attention reserved for privileged athletes.
My Tennis Pro friend had seen and done much in this world, and he was not easily impressed by people, places, or things, but the Master’s had always been on his bucket list, and I was happy to share the experience with him.
His participation at The Master’s did not disappoint, nor were his unforeseen encounters anticipated.
One day, mid-week of the tournament, I needed fresh batteries for my tape recorder and had to leave the grounds to find the nearest convenience store.
My Tennis Pro guest needed a break and offered to accompany me.
At the store, as I searched for the correct battery size, my friend dispensed himself a fountain drink to take along the way.
We encountered security when we returned to the golf course and entered the media center. My friend remarked, “There was no way the guard would let him take his drink on the golf course with him.”
Sure enough, as we entered the gate and presented our credentials, the guard halted our arrival and asked my friend for his drink.
My friend handed his store-bought cup and half-consumed beverage to the security guard, and then he turned to me with I told you so look of smugness and self-assurance.
But what happened next is the stuff of legend.
The guard politely took the brightly colored, commercially printed drink cup, carefully poured the drink into a fresh, distinctly Master’s logoed cup, and said: “There you go, sir.”
To this day, my Tennis Pro friend recollects his personal story about his Master’s experience and the Master’s cup he still proudly displays among his hard-fought and won sports memorabilia.
The Master’s Tournament is a breathtaking, extraordinary, and revered occurrence in every way possible.
Unlike any other golf course on Earth, the Augusta National Golf Club is an exceptional venue known for its excellence, beauty, and the challenge it presents to the best golfers in the world.
Nevertheless, the tournament also serves as a barometer of the season.
The message The Master’s Tournament conveys so richly is that the potential of spring always gets underway with hints, signs, and harbingers of the season’s foliage with its limitless tints, shades, and colors.
Yet the promise of spring is never fully realized without the picture-perfect greenness of the Master’s Golf Tournament adorned and embellished with that distinctive emerald hue that distinguishes and sets it apart from any sporting event on Earth, and like the Golf Tournament itself, the Green of the Masters is a tradition by and of itself.
Jeff Waters is a PGA Master Professional and a Golf Writers Association of America member.
