I played Augusta National the Monday after the Masters, one of the most memorable rounds of my life not to be confused with one of the best. You can listen to my guest spot on the Loop podcast to hear about the (few) highs and (many) lows, but there’s likely a limit to how much people want to hear about how I played. (Did I mention I didn’t have my own clubs? Or that I had the shanks two days earlier?)



It’s an April tradition for golf writers who have won the media lottery to want to expound on the experience and its deeper significance. Golf Digest has published a number of excellent accounts, and if I did my own, no more than half of it would be devoted to explaining why I didn’t bring my own clubs to Georgia (I didn’t want to jinx winning the lottery) and then stubbornly decided to forge ahead without them (I didn’t trust shipping them in time). For now, though, I figured I’ll focus on a few dynamics I encountered at Augusta National that I hadn’t anticipated.



1. The champions locker room doesn’t have showers

There is no better place to change your shoes, or hang up an extra shirt, but if you win a green jacket, forget about luxuriating under a massive shower head at the end of a grueling 18. The champions locker room is small. Everyone shares a locker, there are only a couple of tables, and the bathroom is just toilets and sinks. This is not meant to sound like a complaint, although I did wonder how it would go over if I traipsed down the clubhouse stairs in just a towel in search of a place to freshen up. I apologize for the mental image.

2. It’s not nearly as stuffy as people think

There’s a line I first heard when writing a story about country club stuffiness last year: Some private clubs want you to feel at home, others like to remind you you’re a guest. From the valets to the golf pros to the caddies, the staff at Augusta National gave off a vibe that was far more “What can I get for you?” than “Don’t go in there.” True story: When my round was over and the clubs were back in the car, I began to pull away from the clubhouse to head back down Magnolia Lane. Then I remembered I forgot something in the pro shop, so I pulled my Toyota rental car over on Founders Circle. I apologized as I ran back inside for 10 minutes, yet no one batted an eye. I suppose I could have really tested the staff’s patience by going with the aforementioned towel through the clubhouse. There’s always next time.