Every Spring, golfing greats from all over the world gather in Augusta Georgia to participate in the tournament founded by the great Bobby Jones Clifford Roberts in 1934.
The event was to be by invitation only, and was originally name the August National Invitation Golf Tournament until the name was changed to The Masters in 1939.
A golfer must earn an invitation to play in The Masters, and it is considered the premiere golf event of the year. It is the only major golf championship played on the same course year after year, and there is a mystique that permeates the event unlike no other.
It’s hard for a player to get an invitation to play at Augusta in the Tournament. It is equally hard for a fan of golf to get a ticket to the event. Tickets to the Masters are a precious commodity, allocated to a select group of fans that have had the first right of refusal for years.
The last waiting list for tickets was in the year 2000, and it closed quickly. There are simply no ticket sales to the general public.
As a matter of fact, it is not uncommon for Masters tickets to be included in wills to be bequeathed to lucky heirs.
Sunday is the toughest day of all. That is the day when the coveted green jacket will be awarded to the golfer that has conquered both the Augusta National Golf Course, and all of the other competitors vying for the honor. A Sunday ticket is nearly impossible to obtain.
So today I’ll watch the conclusion of the match on television just as I do every year. And I’ll keep hoping that maybe one day I’ll be “invited” to this rite of Spring.
Because I really would like to experience it firsthand… at least once in my lifetime!
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