Hello friends Juicebeats here,
This year's Masters tournament has me pretty bummed that my favorite player (Tiger Woods) is not playing this year due to injury.
The last few years have been disappointing for him as far as majors go aside from the off the course issues. I am one of many that started playing golf when he became a professional and have been enjoying the game ever since.
A few years ago I was able to go to the Masters with a few friends of mine. If you have ever been to Augusta for the Masters, than you know how beautiful that course is, and I got to see almost all of the players.
I watched as they practiced shots and took notes on what parts of the course to hit and how fast the greens were; I also observed as they had a little fun skipping the ball across the water for the fans on hole 16 . I had a great experience seeing these things up close, but my favorite memory wasn't of the actual play or seeing the players up close. My favorite memory was how I was able to get into the course.
Here's the story...
My friend Andrew had 2 passes to get into the tournament for 3 of us to go. Andrew knew a secret spot to sneak in, so he could get in without a ticket. My friend Jon and I were going to go into the front gate with the tickets and meet him at the gift shop. This was the plan. The Masters has an extremely strict policy on cell phones, so when my friends and I pulled up and parked, we left our phones in the car so we would not have to get stopped by security and have our phones taken away. When we met up at the gift shop, I handed Andrew my ticket so he could get on the course as I was finishing up a transaction at the gift shop. Jon had gone with Andrew taking his ticket too, leaving me without one. When I started to meet them on the course after paying for a couple polo shirts, I was immediately met by a security guard asking where my ticket was. I instantly went into panic lie mode. "Oh my gosh, sir, it must have fallen out of my pocket." He let me look around for a second before saying to me," Come with me." He brought me into the security office (Masters' jail). I sat there for a few minutes trying to think of what to do. I couldn't call my friends because they both didn't have cell phones. I didn't have another ride or anyone else I could talk to for help. I sat there in Masters' jail for about 30 or 40 minutes until I noticed through the window the bathroom right next door to the security office. I asked the security guard if I could go to the restroom. He said yes and followed me to the door. The restroom had 2 doors, an entrance and an exit about 20 or so feet on the other side close to a pathway to get to the course. This was my chance. As the security guard wasn't looking, I bolted out the exit door down the path and on to the course before he even knew I was gone. I finally found my friends on the course after hiding and trying to blend in with the crowd. I told them what happened, and Andrew immediately gave me back the ticket. I attached the ticket to my jacket, so it would be seen just in case the guard came looking for me. Nobody came, but I swear I heard one of the security guard's walkie talkies on the course say black male 6'2" may be on the course.
Each year when the Masters approaches, I think about my trip to the tournament and how lucky I was to get to see it in person.