The Masters

The course is dreamy, even a non golfing girl like myself can appreciate the way the trash bags match the exact green of the well, greens. The dogwood trees, the azalea's in full bloom, tall perfect mixture of pine trees and other posture flawless trees. The exact shade of Masters green grass, the crisp yellow flags on the green contrast perfectly with the glorious blue skies. The Neiman Marcus of courses. "There are no cell phones at the Masters"...."Hats are not to be worn backwards at the Masters"...."there is no farting at the Masters"....No purses, no camera's (except on practice round days), no cell phones, no cut off's, no gum chewing, hillbilly actin', no blah blah blah....They are proud, for sure!




I don't really care much about the hoity toity-ness of all of it, but I did thoroughly enjoy being 3 feet away from the players. Hey Tiger, what'cha doin?

Ricky Fowler, My Sassy Pants loves you, with your Caribbean blue jacket and pink Puma shoes. All you missin' is some bling baby! Mama Sassy Pants be lovin' you...My bro was checking out these pics later that night and he said, "awww, Sis, Ricky is one of my buddies, you should have called him over." Good to know Bro, some advance notice would be useful, nevertheless, good to know. 



Ben Hogan bridge in Amen Corner....
As the story goes, when the Masters decided that they were going to build a bridge, they had to acquire a portion of someone's property for the project. The property owner countered the Masters financial offer with a proposal for the Masters to give the property owner 4 Lifetime Memberships. The Masters paid several million dollars (as story has it) for the property....Hey, not everybody is privileged enough to be a member, not even if you have prime real estate.




I feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to see the course, take pictures and walk amongst the best golfer's there are, "the Masters" of the game. My brother, Angie and Bubba Watson made it possible and I am truly grateful for the experience. Hey, can I put in my request to attend next year too? After all, I have to walk the front 9 at some point. The hills worked me over. The footage they show on TV does not portray the accuracy of the slopes. My gluteus was maximus hurting. OH, and to prep for my trip next year, I will need to be debriefed on the who's who of your bff's, Ted. That way, when a little 9 year old who is sitting in front of me DYING for Ricky Fowler's autograph, I can help a sista out.