AJC > Sports > Blog > Archives > 2008 > April > 11
Friday, April 11, 2008
A trip down memory lane at Augusta
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Augusta—It’s “Free-Wheeling Friday” again which means all of us are allowed to go off topic. You want to talk about politics, music, or who makes the best barbeque in the state? Go for it. You have the floor.
(Just so you’ll know, my barbeque vote goes for Holcomb’s in Greensboro, Ga. Best Brunswick stew on the planet).
Since I’m here on the hallowed grounds of Augusta National getting ready for today’s second round, I’m going ask for your indulgence. As it turns out, this is a special anniversary for me at the Masters Golf Tournament.
I grew up about an hour west of here in Union Point, population just over 1,500. In fact, Georgia Tech quarterback Josh Nesbitt played at my old high school (Greene County).
Speaking of Nesbitt, I saw him play in person at field level when I was asked to come back to serve as an honorary captain for Greene County during a state playoff game. Josh is going to be a good college quarterback, especially in Paul Johnson’s system. He would have been an All-Conference or maybe All-America safety. He’s that good.
But back to golf. I’m dating myself here, but I can remember as a little boy, exactly when Masters week would arrive. Before I-20 had been finished, a long procession of cars would come through my town traveling from Atlanta to Augusta in the morning and back in the afternoon. I can remember my mom delaying her regular Saturday trip to the grocery store until the Masters traffic had cleared out. I always wondered what all the fuss was about.
In 1968, 40 years ago tomorrow, I found out. On a Saturday morning there was an unexpected knock on the door. Dr. Leo Wade was a neighbor and had an extra badge for the day. Did I want to go with him?
I always maintain that a boy or girl never forgets the first time they walk into a major league baseball stadium. The same is true for the first trip to Augusta National. Four decades later I can still remember the sights and the sounds of that day.
I remember that pimento cheese sandwich wrapped in green wax paper. As a Southern boy, I’d had many pimento cheese sandwiches before. Somehow, this one tasted better.
I remember Bruce Devlin snaking in a long putt for an eagle on No. 13.
I remember Gary Player getting a hard-earned birdie on 18 and the incredible roar that came with it. The crowd around 18 was unlike anything I had ever seen.
And speaking of roars, you’ll never forget hearing the explosion of sounds coming from all over the course and wondering what had caused it. You would look to the leader board and soon would come the answer.
And little did I know at the time that I was attending what would become a historic Masters. The next day Roberto DeVicenzo finished tied for first but signed an incorrect scorecard. That gave the championship to Bob Goalby.
My high school principal, Mr. Ellis Foster, was an avid golfer and had a deal with all of the students who loved the game. If we could score Masters tickets he would let us skip school and go. He knew what an educational experience it would be. My buddy, Eric Ashley, came through one year and so we went down to Mr. Foster’s office. He gave us his blessing and asked if he could come along.
I promise you, going to The Masters on a school day was better than “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”
Those are the kind of things I think about when I come back to Augusta National. Thanks for letting me share them with you.
We’ll get back to football on Monday after the latest round of spring games.
