The Masters: A Tradition Unlike Any Other

by Chris Paschal

I am not ashamed to admit that The Masters messes with my emotions. Not the kind of emotions that make teenage girls, (except my sister), the most unbearable human beings on planet earth. I’m talking about the kind of emotions that make full grown men like me feel really awkward and sort of pathetic. The holding-back-tears kind of emotions. The “love that guy” about every single golfer kind of emotions.

I love The Masters for a lot of reasons. One, it is the perfect complement to the other sport that messes with my emotions, (maybe I should see someone about this), SEC Football.

When I watch SEC Football, I am full-go. I watch entire recordings of games from back in the 80s. I tailgate like it’s my last tailgate. And I follow recruiting like a sociopath. SEC Football takes up my entire life. When I am in class, watching other sports, talking to girls, I am still thinking about SEC Football.

The Masters Tournament, on the other hand, soothes the soul. You’re supposed to relax. Let the weekend unfold. Let the storylines comes to you. Eat some pimento cheese, drink some Arnold Palmers, and just unwind.

The Pageantry

Another reason I love The Masters is because of the unique players and stories that come with them. The first Masters I truly remember is 2004. That Sunday, I followed Phil Mickelson on his quest to win his first Major. He did so in stunning fashion.

What about Bubba (a Georgia Bulldog) in 2012? Forced into a playoff, Bubba Watson hit one of the greatest shots in Master’s history to win his first ever green jacket.

Then of course there is Larry Mize. One of the greatest stories in Master’s history. Mize grew up a few miles from Augusta National. He worked the tournament as a boy and in 1987 he had his shot to win it all. It was the only major Mize won.

Every year, there is always an old dog that is playing in what will be his final Masters Tournament. The one that brought a big ole lump to the back of my throat was Ben Crenshaw’s final Masters in 2015. After completing his final hole on the 18th green on Friday afternoon, in front of a standing ovation, Crenshaw embraced Carl Jackson, the man who had walked by his side 39 times previously at the Masters as his caddie. I’m getting choked up just thinking about it now.

Tradition Unlike Any Other

From Rae’s Creek to Amen Corner to the Green Jacket, the traditions that stay with this tournament are remarkable. You see, to me, it’s the moving stories and deep history, and not just the amazing golf, that makes The Masters exceptional.

One of my favorite parts was having Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player, and for the longest time, Arnold Palmer as the honorary starters for the tournament. Early on Thursday morning, the three legends would tee the ball off to signify that The Masters had begun. For most of my childhood, those three would be introduced by then Chairman of Augusta National, Billy Payne, a Georgia native with as much class as he had smarts. I loved watching that moment.

I have been blessed to attend and walk the grounds of Augusta National, twice. That area holds such a special place in my heart. The towering pines, the beautiful flowers, the nice weather, the even nicer people, the cigar smoke, the roars that shake you – I love it all.

This weekend, I encourage all of you to take in one of the grandest sporting events this country has to offer. Names like Tiger Woods, Rory McIlroy, Jordan Spieth, and Dustin Johnson will show off what the world’s best players have to offer. Seasoned vets like Freddy Couples, Angel Cabrera, and Vijay Singh will walk the course yet again.

I for one am rooting for Kevin Kisner, an undersized, South Carolinian (a state with a proud history at The Masters). I know you root for all of them, and I certainly will, but Kisner is my guy.

No matter who you are rooting for or who you are watching with, or whether this is your first time watching or you 50th time watching, I wish you all a very pleasant weekend full of Masters Golf. Once that famous Masters theme hits your ears, you know it will be time for a tradition unlike any other. I can’t wait.