I left Augusta this morning. En route back home after four days at the Masters, I'm feeling somewhat melancholy. Post-Masters blues? I think that's what I've got.
I'm currently in Charlotte, NC waiting for a flight that will take me back to the chilly, gray skies and brown lawns of Connecticut.
I've written about golf for several years now and have attempted... more than once... to put this trip together, but early April is a busy time for me and there always seemed to be a scheduling conflict looming. Furthermore, my numerous applications for media credentials have always been
So a couple of months ago, when a reader/friend/patron generously offered me the two series badges he wouldn't be able to use this year, I knew this would be my Masters. At the last minute, my better half had to make an unexpected overseas trip, so I decided to stay with a friend who lives in big beautiful house in the middle of acres and acres of farmland, 20 miles south of Augusta. This friend isn't a golfer but is a gardener and she'd been dreaming of seeing the azaleas, the historic magnolias and the Eisenhower tree. When I proposed Nick's ticket to her she was delighted. --->
I'm glad I was able to attend the Masters as a spectator because in the end it allowed me... and my horticulturally inclined friend... to really experience the tournament, to walk the course and interact with the other spectators in a way that isn't always possible when one is working.
I'll be posting my observations... on the tournament, the fashions, the course and the overall experience... a bit later today. Right now I've got a plane to catch.