AUGUSTA – In retelling the twisted tale of the mistaken Masters invitation it’s most important to keep the main characters straight.
Who knew there were so many Scott Stallings-es in the world?
For our purposes, there are two. First there’s 60-year-old Atlanta realtor Scott Stallings, henceforth known as Realtor Scott. Then there’s the 37-year-old professional golfer from Tennessee who has rebuilt himself and his career and returned to the world’s best golf tournament here this week after an nine-year absence. We’ll call him Golfer Scott. Why make this any harder than it already is?
There should be little confusion between the two. Realtor Scott freely admits that he is a menace with a driver in his hand. He should just yell, “Fore!” when unpacking his clubs from the trunk and get that out of the way up front.
Anyway, Realtor Scott and his wife Jenny – and, here it gets a little scary because Golfer Scott’s wife is also named Jenny – breached the gates of heaven early this week.
After a handful of failed attempts to get on the grounds through the Masters ticket lottery, they spent Monday and Tuesday touring the impossibly green swales and Loblolly Pines of Augusta National.
Along the way they’ve been feted at Golfer Scott’s house party. And been decked out head to toe in lovely free leisure wear sent to them by Golfer Scott’s clothing line. “They said if you’re going to share a name, you need to dress like him, too,” Jenny said.
Needless to say, it has been something more than a hoot. “When you add up all of the things that had to happen for this to come about it’s mind-boggling,” Realtor Scott said.
You may have heard it’s harder than honors algebra to get a ticket to any part of Masters week. Turns out, all you have to do is happen to possess a name identical to some well connected pro golfer and sit back and wait for the kind of screw up that is never supposed to happen with an Augusta National production.
“Everything that happened surrounding it was just sort of surreal,” Golfer Scott admitted this week.
The oddness dates back to last New Year’s Eve and a UPS delivery to the St. Simons vacation condo of Mr. and Mrs. Realtor Scott. Normally they would have rented it out, but decided to enjoy the place themselves that holiday. Fate had plans for them.
Inside the envelope was a notice, gold embossed, inviting Scott Stallings to play in the 2023 Masters.
Sure, Realtor Jenny had tried a half dozen times to get a precious Masters practice round ticket through the annual public lottery. And was frustrated with the process. “Just did it when I remembered to do it,” she said. “You just give up after a while.” But, this, an invite to play in the Masters – now there was the mother of all over-corrections.
Seems the address Augusta National had for Golfer Scott was his one-time business office on St. Simons, one that’s now an outbuilding for a barbeque place. The UPS driver couldn’t leave the envelope there, but discovered there was a Scott Stallings address just a block or so away. That had to be it, right? That’s how one graying realtor got invited to play in the Masters.
“UPS took the initiative to take (the invitation) to us, having made some deliveries to us,” Realtor Scott said. “If that didn’t happen and we didn’t come down for New Year’s Eve ... so many things had to happen for this to take place. Every time I think about it, I’m amazed.”
Meanwhile, back in Tennessee, Golfer Scott was starting to wonder just where his golden ticket to the Masters had gotten to. God knows, he had earned it. There’s a reason he hadn’t played in the tournament since 2014. Like the little matter of breaking some ghastly nutritional habits (like at one time drinking 7 Dr. Peppers a day), dropping 50 pounds, renewing his commitment to himself and his game. When the three-time PGA Tour winner qualified for last year’s Tour Championship at East Lake, he also qualified for this Masters.
Maybe his wife had hidden the invite, Golfer Scott thought, to surprise him with it at Christmas. But the holiday came and went, and still no confirmation.
Happily, Realtor Scott concluded that the Masters had not really invited him to play. After all, they’d probably get wise once he started talking about mortgage rates on the first tee rather than clubhead speed. And through the miracle of social media he eventually was able to connect with the other Stallings and send the card off to its rightful address.
The least Golfer Stallings could do in return was set up these good citizens with practice round tickets Monday and Tuesday. But, then, he went way beyond the least he could do.
Sunday night, the Stallings couple drove over from Atlanta and met up with Golfer Scott at an Augusta pickleball court to pick up the practice round tickets. Seems PGA Tour players have discovered that game, too.
Golfer Scott practically ran to his car to fetch something else from his back seat. It was the wayward Masters invite, matted and framed. Along with the signed message: “Thank you from one Scott Stallings to the next.”
On giving the invitation back to its accidental recipient, he said, “Now it’s gone full circle.”
“That floored us. Wow, what a classy act,” Realtor Scott said.
Besides a taste for good bourbon, the two Scotts also have in common a palpable appreciation for where they found themselves this week.
“Anytime you get a chance to experience this place, it’s something special,” Golfer Scott said. “Everyone should experience it at least once.”
“It’s such a beautiful place, why wouldn’t you want to come back?” Realtor Scott said.
Alas, that might mean depending once more on the long odds of the Masters lottery. Or the high price of the secondary market. Maybe, it was suggested to him, it would be just easier to change his surname to, say, Scheffler and take his chances on getting Scottie Scheffler’s 2024 invitation by mistake.
“Well, some people do call me Scottie,” Realtor Scott chuckled.
Then, realizing Augusta National’s violent allergic reaction to anything not quite right, he knew better: “I guarantee you, this will never happen again.”
Credit: Photo courtesty of Scott Stallings
Credit: Photo courtesty of Scott Stallings
About the Author
