MASTERS

Will and I were fortuntate to get to make the trek to Augusta, Georgia for a day of golf and fun.  We left after the church activities on Wednesday night and stopped over at a La Quinta in Statesboro, Ga.  Will is 12 and is a very innocent tween. He loves getting IBC creme soda and joking about bodily noises.  He still likes to hang out with his old man, and that is such a gift these days.

We woke up early on Thursday and make the holy pilgrimmage to golf's great mecca.  We stumbled into A-lot parking and were only a few hundred yards from the front gate.  Security was a breeze, and within moments we had the folding chairs up at the 18th green and were well on our way to enjoyng pro-golf in all its glory.  Will still enjoys getting a flag and pursuing autographs.  Amazingly, he was able to get Adam Scott's signature (last year's green jacket winner) early on.  He saw lots of pros, and the leader of the day Bill Hass (from Greenville, SC) was kind to him, and his dad came over and gave him a pat on the back and an autograph.

We walked part of the course, and we ate egg salad sammies and chips and those buttery moist cookies by Christie (Nashville).  We drank lemonade and felt at times like royalty.  The weather was in the low 70s with a slight breeze, not a cloud in the sky, and we joined in that great chorus of golf witnesses who are among the greatest fans of any sport in the world--so patient with those playing slowly, so affirming of every player no matter his nationality or somewhat questionable taste in apparal.

The day brought many memorable moments for me, but a couple rise like creme to the top:  one would be seeing Ben Crenshaw come up #18 and play it well.  What a legend, and just as he finished the hole, he saw Will, and came up and gave him his Srixon ball.  Will got a few more balls that day, but Crenshaw's takes the cake.  The second memory came as we were driving home and as day was turning into night.  Out of the blue, Will said, "Dad, thank you for taking me today.  I really had a great time with you."  <<sigh>>

I remember those moments with my own dad, who didn't feel up to all the walking at the event.  Like life, the Masters has a way of pushing a person to be tempted to explode at his worst (a mishit or a moment of bad fortunre) and yet inspiring a person to dig deeper and think imaginatively and grow, rising above the present challenge or tough lie.

If we all live long enough, we will find ourselves in many tight spots and tough lies.  I hope the next time I find myself there, I'll be able to remember the simple joy and wonder of a 12 year old boy that day, a boy who may never wear a green jacket but will always be my "champ."