The U.S Masters at Augusta is one of my favourite sporting events of the year. It is a massive cliché but there is something special about the place. It is the most modern of the four majors on golf’s circuit but it seems to be drenched in tradition and history.
This no doubt has something to do with the fact that it is the only major that remains at the same course every year. The Open, U.S Open and U.S PGA all have a roster which means that only a select few courses get to host a major more than once a decade, e.g St Andrews.
Augusta on the other hand is able to cause and witness triumph and disaster in equal measure each April. This means that the course, perhaps more than any other on the planet, is able to contribute to the myth surrounding the tournament.
Every course has its nooks and crannies where golfers, no matter if you are Tiger Woods or a clumsy hacker, come to grief. But Augusta, because it is such a consistent thorn in the side of so many of the worlds best, seems to have more than any other.
Many of the courses on the Open circuit have infamous traps which are highlighted every five or ten years when it hosts the world’s oldest golf tournament.
Two fine examples are the nightmarish Road Hole at St Andrews or the Barry Burn at Carnoustie’s 18th hole which seems to attract the balls of the leaders like a magnet. Jean Van der Velde physically and mentally lost the plot there in 1999 while Padraig Harrington was lucky to win the 2007 Open after visiting the burn not once but twice on the same hole.
But these holes are only contemplated by the watching public when they are in play every five or ten years. Augusta’s 12th on the other hand has become nearly as much a part of the Easter season as roast lamb and dauphinoise potatoes.
Watching players putt across the two-tiered green on the 16th is like an Easter egg hunt for sports addicts. Seeing players grab the bull by the horns and occasionally recovering from the dead like our great saviour himself on the 15th is as traditional now as going to church on Easter Sunday morning.
Augusta National's infamous 12th hole
Augusta has an X-factor which is only matched by the drama that unfolds on its manicured greens. My Dad always imagines that putting on those seemingly perfect greens must be like putting on glass on an angle of 45 degrees. Frightening for the players, dynamite for the viewers, as they watch a nicely balanced mix of players wilting under the pressure while others stand tall to the Georgian course’s blows.
Another reason why The Masters is such a magical four days is the emphasis that the course puts on ones short game. The best shots to watch, apart from the once a tournament moment of magic from behind a tree by Sergio Garcia or Tiger, are the swerving and curving monster putts and the chip-ins.
Augusta, more than most, if not all other courses, puts a ridiculously high premium on these shots. If you are heavy-handed around the greens then you may as well join Fuzzy Zoeller on the plane home on Saturday morning because this is no course for the faint hearted or slightly oafish.
You have to be sharp around the dance floor at every tournament if you are to be in contention come Sunday evening but this is easier to do at most other courses. If you look at the stats at the end of the week, the winner is almost certainly the player who is most solid with their putts of about six feet and who is imaginative and silky from the fringes. Hence why Tiger and Phil Mickelson have had such success there.
Augusta is like a golfing Garden of Eden and much like Adam and Eve, I am going to give into its many temptations. The only question left this year is whether Tiger will play the role of the serpent…
Jack Travers' Blog 