The second Saturday of April is known as “moving day’ to the folks of Augusta Georgia. But at the 2024 Master’s the gusts from the God’s were keeping the leaderboard still. Scottie Scheffler, who has developed into the best player in the world started the day with a one-shot lead that he would have to sleep on going into the final round. Trying to rest with a lead the night before the final round of a four round tourney is a bittersweet experience. You can see yourself donning the green jacket and you can envision your golf ball drowning in Ray’s Creek. The great champions find a way to control their mental state if they are to go on to win multiple major championships, while the rest end up in history’s dustbin of runner-up’s. Tuning in last Saturday I began my annual pilgrimage (via television) to “The Masters” weekend. For one week of the year golf lovers get to watch the premier players in the world go to golf’s heaven to compete for a green jacket. As naturally as the world keeps rotating around the sun, the powers to be at Augusta have remained unusually unchanged since the inaugural event back in 1934. Over the years putting on the green jacket, that recognized the winner, is without debate the most coveted prize in golf. The drive through the magnolias towards the imperial clubhouse is the sweetest ride in golf. Once the player is emerging from the magnolias he is entering a time and space that exists no where else on this earth.
In a world that is currently completely upside-down “The Masters” hangs onto to the strict rules of privatization and capitalism principles of “don’t t tell us how to run our Country Club.” Amazingly, over the years, advertisers, the players, the networks, and the nation as a whole look the other way at discrimination and elitism that have always ruled this club which is still held in such reverence. There are both magmatic leaders and dangerous leaders in this world, and then there is the “Board of Directors at Augusta”. At Augusta National the Chairman of that Board is Ceasar who is a one-way street for all things Augusta National. The Masters is run with an iron hand, with the goal being “we run the best golf tournament in the universe, and we run it exactly the way we want. Proceed at your own peril.” “The Masters” is determined to leave the world behind and create an environment designed for their fantasies. The enormous elephant in the room at Augusta is its dark history of misogyny and racism. It was not until 1975 that the first black professional golfer (Lee Elder) was allowed to compete for “The Masters” title. The only blacks driving down Magnolia Lane in those days were the help. As recently as 1995 “The Masters” was boycotted due to the club’s practice of “no women” on the golf course. These deep scars from paradise’s past cast ominous shadows over the entire grounds which are 100% ignored by the shills announcing. That year the Travelers and Cadillac pulled their ads, and “The Masters” ran the tournament without a hitch, or a sponsor free. Nobody tells the good “ole boys” of Augusta how to run their club. Yes, they gracefully put away their blatant racism in 1997 and embraced Tiger Woods as “The Masters” second greatest champion.
In the year 2024, the Board of Directors at “The Masters” has woken up to the social issues that they used to turn the other cheek to. But they haven’t given into inflation, or any sub-standard conditions on the golf course. Ice cream sandwiches cost 50 cents for the patrons during the tournament. Hot dogs are one dollar. And how about a cold Heineken for a dollar fifty. Change is not the favorite word for the old white geezers that run the show. The word tradition is the most important from the Augusta’s board point of view. With a few exceptions (WWII) the green jacket (even through Covid) is put on the eventual winner of the grandest tournament of them all. There is not a pro out there on the course who has not dreamed the same dream to someday tee it up at Augusta with a shot to put on the green jacket Sunday evening. “The Masters” have been doing it the same way since what seems to be the beginning of time. And not a single commentator, member, or patron is going to say one irreverent word about the dark history of America’s favorite Country Club. Surprisingly enough in the year 2024 the winds on Saturday at “The Masters” kept the leader board spookily still.
Despite its jaded track record of white male elitism, the week of “The Masters” remains one of the most watched events on American television. The Tuesday night, prior to the opening shots being fired, the legends of golf gather in the founder’s room of the clubhouse for the past “Champions Dinner”. Each year the prior champ hosts the traditional “victors only dinner”. This year the host was Jon Rahm, who had caused quite a stir the week before announcing he had accepted 350 million dollars to leave the PGA tour and join LIV. Rahm’s menu selection was a feast with all the goodies made for the heartiness of Spaniard taste buds. On Wednesday, the tournaments families get to participate with the players in the traditional par three tournament this year won by Rickie Fowler. These events build for the Thursday morning when golf’s big three (Jack Nicklaus ,Gary Player, and Tom Watson ) walked through the early morning dew to launch the ceremonial tee shots that begins the gala. At the Masters the storylines are always titillating. This year the between the lines gossip was focused on Rory McIlroy. Would he win his first green jacket to secure the grand slam, (winning the PGA’s four major tournaments), would he take $850,000,000 from Greg Norman and become the final sellout to the PGA tournament. By the time Sunday evening rolled around neither had transpired. But on Thursday morning at “The Masters” the storylines are put on hold, and it feels like opening day of the baseball season (they fall close together on the calendar). “Everybody was even par, and everybody’s dreams were fresh.”
So much has changed in this world over the past fifty years, but the lords of Augusta National continue to spend unlimited dollars to do everything in their power to keep their sacred traditions of “The Masters” preserved. As the tournament began Thursday morning, 89 invitees were ready to fight for a chance to compete at the highest of levels of golf on gods’ acre. Bryson DeChambeau, the independent rich bad boy of LIV fame dominated the leader board for most of the first two days. DeChambeau, who did find a way to win the U’S. Open at Winged Foot back in 2020, has become a symbol of a new breed of golfer who respects “The Masters” traditions but certainly marches to his own drum when attacking “The Masters” set up. As DeChambeau ultimately faltered in his attempt to outdrive Augusta, Scottie Scheffler rose quietly to the top of the leaderboard. Once on top, today’s hottest golfer in the world put on a clinic in remaining a “calm cool customer.” Scheffler used his depth patience and honed talent to show the world that on the golf course “he has all tools to continue to be a great champion for years to come.” On Sunday night when the green jacket was placed on Scheffler’s shoulders, the God’s of Augusta took their annual deep breath. The old blue bloods of Augusta don’t like controversy and Scottie Scheffler is as close to perfect you’re going to get these days. A true blue “good guy” with a beautiful family and great head on his shoulders. The future is his for the taking.
The time of the second Sunday of April had arrived. As Scheffler made his way through the crowd, his caddie walked side by side hoisting the flag from the 18th green making their way to the Butler Cabin. “The Masters” had what they wanted. Scottie Scheffler hugging his parents marching through the thralls of well wishers like Marc Anthony returning to Rome after the conquering had been done. The victory march ends in the Butler Cabin, and a presentation that is scripted the same way it has been the last 70 years. Augusta’s Chairman Fred Riley congratulated the low amateur (Neal Shipley) before turning to Jon Rahn, signaling the time for the past Masters champion to put the green jacket on the new conquering hero. Scottie Scheffler had won his second green jacket of what is sure to be many more to come. At the age of 28 he had already secured his place amongst the gods of “The Masters”. “Thank you, Mr. Chairman,” Scheffler said politely as tears rolled off his eyes in front of four million viewers. Late into the Georgia night Scheffler came out of the Butler Cabin to greet family and friends patiently awaiting the new king. Among the missing was his wife, home expecting their first child. The night before Scheffler had said that if he got the call, he was leaving the course immediately, even if it were on the seventy second hole with a lead. That sounded good to the crowd, but the god’s at the Augusta would have never stood for it. As the rest of word remains shakingly upside down The Masters got through another year doing things just the way they like.
