The Masters: A non-golfer's experience

The Masters: it's synonymous with the great names in golf, perfectly groomed and maintained grass, the Masters green color, Augusta Georgia.  A few weeks ago, I was lucky enough to attend one of the practice rounds.  I wasn't sure what to expect before going.  For one, I am not a golfer; in fact, I've never golfed before or even been to a driving range.  There are a lot of people who would probably cringe and scoff that I had the audacity to attend part of the Masters and didn't instead relinquish my ticket to a more worthy tournament goer.  No way! I wanted to see what all the hooplah was about.

I attended with my my husband, my dad and my father-in-law.  All three of them are golfers, so there I was, the uneducated rookie with a miniscule amount of knowledge in golf terminology.  There were only a select few golf words that I dared utter.  "Why did he put his tee there?" (yes I knew what that white peg in the ground was).  "Hmmm, they don't yell FORE! when then drive the ball down the green? (good thing I whispered this one, I don't think the pros ever use that term...)  While at the tournament I learned that the few words I knew are only the tip of the iceberg in golf lingo.  Words like fade are used meaning the ball goes to the right down the green and draw when the ball curves to the left.  There's a whole slew of other terms specific to the game to describe what's happening.  I'm not sure I understand why golf has to have a language all of its own.  Seems to me it would be easier to simply say the ball went left or right.  Maybe I just feel that way since I'm not a golfer...

I have to say, walking the Augusta National course was an experience to remember.  The weather was sunny and beautiful, perfectly highlighting the bright pink azalea bushes that kissed the edges of each perfectly manicured green.  The trees seemed as if they were plucked from perfection and planted in exact spots where they would provide the right contrast between the blue of the sky and the green of the course.  The course itself was something to marvel at, it seemed the perfect grass was an exact hue; I'm sure there are specialists whose only job it is to make sure it is always pristine.

The phenomenal natural setting was not the only thing to notice at the Masters, the people in attendance provided entertainment as well.  They came in all shapes and sizes wearing all types of outfits and getups.  When a man walked by with the most outrageous shorts on I couldn't hold my laughter in and definitely lost it when I noticed he was alongside a woman with matching ensemble.  I wondered, did he set that ensemble aside to specifically wear to this event? I would have to assume most definitely, he did.  The Masters was a circus of people, all there to show face and experience one of the greatest tournaments in golf.

On the other side of the white rope were the pro golfers on stage.  As we were at the practice rounds, it was a more relaxed and laid back atmosphere.  Many of the pros would engage with the crowd, take multiple shots on a green and even play around with the game, performing trick shots only further highlighting their talent to place that tiny ball wherever they wanted.

There's one more thing I can't avoid mentioning about the Masters.  At a tournament where the first place prize is a cool $1.4 million dollars and even 15th place gets a prize of $128,000, you can buy a beer in a souvenir cup for $3 and a sandwich for $1.50.  Now here's one sporting event that has it right.  There isn't any professional sporting event I can think of that keep their prices so modest and reasonable for the fans.  Last time I was at Yankee Stadium in New York I'm pretty sure I spent $9 for a bottle of Bud Light and $7 for a mediocre hot dog.  At the Masters, I happily sipped my ice cold beer and munched on my pimiento cheese sandwich for a total of $4.50.

For those that don't know what pimento cheese is, I would urge you to seek it out and try it.  Here in the South it's served as an appetizer that you dip chips in, on sandwiches as a spread and even atop burgers.  It's a blend of cheddar cheese, pimentos, mayonnaise, salt and pepper and sometimes other ingredients depending on who is making it - in short, it's a really bad for you delicious treat.  That's enough of my food digression, the point is, the Masters didn't make me think about the hole burning in my pocket, but instead allowed me to indulge and happily spectate the pros on the course with a full belly.

I loved my first Masters experience; but in all honesty, I will probably relinquish my ticket next time so a true golf fan can enjoy the fantastic event.  In the meantime, maybe I'll head out to the driving range and take a crack at swinging that shiny stick at that tiny white ball.

Dog Days

Four hours, a 5 pound bag of food, a leash, a collar, pee pads, two chew toys, pepper spray for the furniture and a 25 pound golden fur ball later - we were dog owners.  I'll admit, at first my excitement at having a new puppy faded in and out, often times morphing into a tinge of shock and even disbelief that we actually went through with adopting a dog.  It's one thing to say it over and over again - I would love to have a dog, I wish we could get a dog -  it's an entirely different feeling to actually do it.  The first night I felt like oh crap, no turning back now.  Maybe I felt that way as an effect of cleaning his poop up off the floor, or shoving him off the bed in the middle of the night when he tried to commandeer all the covers.  There's no doubt that owning a dog is a big commitment and not to mention a lot of work; and me being the overly rational person that I am, had a tough time making the plunge.

It was a Thursday afternoon that we decided to go look at dogs at the adoption center.  It wasn't the first time we had done that, in fact we had stopped by the previous day even and something drew us back to look again and little more seriously.  With no exageration, we spent four hours looking at different dogs, taking many of them out to play with, trying to find the one that seemed like a good fit. Picking out a dog is unlike any other process I can think of.  Picking out a dog at an adoption place creates an even greater challenge characterized with uncertainty.  How do you know what the dog will be like in a different environment? How can you really tell their age or who its parents are?  There are so many wonderful dogs that are in need of a home so how do you decide?  Should we get a puppy or a full grown dog?

Then we found Gunner.  We had noticed him in the first few minutes as we circled through the cages filled with puppies and dogs of all shapes and sizes.  I had fixated on an Australian shepherd puppy with dewey eyes and a spunky personality.  We took her out to play and were instantly exposed to her limitless energy and apparent athleticism.  The adoption counselor shied me away from the dog saying she really needed a big yard with lots of space - not a good fit for our apartment dwelling lifestyle.  We spent the next three hours looking at a few older, full grown dogs and a sheltie mix puppy who was anything but interested in figuring out who we were.

Just as we had resigned to leave, deciding that perhaps our dog just wasn't there that day, we went around one more time to look at Gunner.  His fur is smooth and golden, ears flop over framing his almond shaped eyes.  His tail flips up and is dipped in white, matching his four white paws.  We picked him up and took him for a walk.  He trotted alongside us and when we stopped, flipped over so we could rub his belly before rolling onto his stomach and stretching his legs out behind him.  No doubt this dog was a mutt made up of undecided breeds.  After short deliberation, we decided that he was the one.

So Gunner came home with us and it has been two weeks of learning to live life outside a kennel.   I often look at him and wonder what he is thinking.  The first five months of his life were spent in cold and damp pens or cages, most likely minimal human contact and probably not enough exercise.  One day these two people grab him up and take him into their world.  He's scared at new sounds, noises, buildings and experiences but is slowly coming to realize that we are here to help him and give him a good home.   Unsurprisingly, he has taken quickly to the lounging lifestyle of carpeted floor, air conditioning and lots of love and attention.  It's fun and rewarding to watch Gunner look at things for the first time.  When he rolls in the tall grass, wags his tail with delight while vigorously gnawing on a bone, or trots up to me and lays his head in my lap I feel pure joy and happiness that we brought him home that Thursday afternoon.  I'm sure there will be trials and tribulations to go through with Gunner, but we'll take it one dog day at a time.