In Depth: I won't tell you about Augusta

I'VE just been on my first-ever trip to The Masters and realised I have a dilemma after returning to Australian shores.

I’VE just returned from my first-ever trip to The Masters at Augusta National Golf Club and realised I have a dilemma after returning to Australian shores.

There is an overwhelming desire to expand upon every detail of the journey.

I could chew your ear off about the perfectly manicured fairways, the perfect rough, the incredible tournament and the remarkable way this Disney-like golf event is managed.

But I won’t.

Because where would I start? And where, once I’ve started, would I ever end? I’ve tended to err on the side of brevity for fear of losing a couple of golfing buddies during the conversation due to a rage of jealousy. 

I’d love to recount the story, minute-by-minute, about when I first walked onto the hallowed grounds of Augusta National.

Going via the rear gate to get our chairs in a good spot at Amen Corner, I was awestruck as the 13th green emerged from behind the bleachers. Here was a sight I knew so well. One I could see perfectly with my eyes closed. But here it was, with my eyes open and no more than a lay-up wedge away from me. But I won’t.

I could tell you about when I went to the spot where Bubba Watson played that remarkable hook shot on the 10th, to where Phil Mickelson played that incredible recovery shot on the 13th.

Or to where Larry Mize broke Australian hearts when he chipped in against Greg Norman on the 11th or when I lined up the putt that Adam Scott sunk to win the Masters. But I won’t.

And wait ‘til you hear about the trip to the toilet restroom. It’s a hilarious experience unlike any you’ve ever had in the dunny before. The end of the queues are designated by a staff member with a sign who can give you an estimation to the nearest minute of how long you’ll be waiting.

The attendants shuffle you towards the urinals offering advice on how to keep the system flowing, such as “You’ve got 30 seconds; 15 seconds to find it, 15 seconds to drain it!”. And those wishing to use the stalls are quickly identified as ‘sitters’; “we’ve got a sitter!”

But I won’t. 

I could go on for hours about the micro-climate that exists at Amen Corner. We plonked our chairs down behind the 12th tee and after being swept away by the cool winds around the top of the golf course, we returned for a few hours in the early afternoon.

Within minutes we were baking in the sun with no breeze to speak of. But no more than 30 metres away the flag on the 11th green was moving around in all directions. The flag on the 12th, a short-iron over Rae’s Creek was blowing like crazy in a different direction. But I won’t. 

And I could outline each piece of the tournament itself including a blow-by-blow account of our experience as the now infamous Jordan Spieth collapse occurred on Sunday.

Just an hour after accepting that we may not experience the tension associated with the back-nine on Sunday at the Masters, the gasps, groans and then thunderous roars that swept through the pine trees of Augusta National was an experience I’ll never forget. But I won’t.

There is so much incredible stuff to talk about after a weekend at The Masters Tournament that it’s impossible to do it any justice or do it in such a way that doesn’t make you green (Masters green) with envy. 

So I won’t. Or maybe I just did? 

Either way, here is something I will tell you as I feel it is my responsibility to spread the word to all other golfers.

If you can. If the opportunity ever arises, go and do it for yourself. You must. Then you can experience it all for yourself without me having to tell you. And come back and tell everyone about it.

Or maybe you won’t either.




Michael Green

Michael Green founded AussieGolfer.com.au - Australia's #1 golf blog - in 2007, is a member of The Australian Golf Writers Association and has covered some of Australia's biggest golf tournaments, including the Australian Open, the Presidents Cup and World Cup of Golf.

Michael began playing golf as a 10-year-old in Adelaide where his father introduced him to the game.

He has managed to maintain a single-figure handicap while studying, living and working abroad and keeping a close eye on his three children.

Michael has a PhD in Physics and when not writing about golf, he continues to work in medical research in Sydney.

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