Sadly, this will be the first time in a couple of years that I will not make the drive from beautiful Clemson, SC to Augusta, Ga. There is nothing like being at The National. If you've never been, I suggest a trip. Everything is better in Augusta during The Masters. The Egg Salad on white bread, while simple, will make you forget all your troubles. And at $1.50, it might as well be all you can eat. Make sure to try the honorable mentions as well: the tuna salad, the BBQ sandwich, or the incredible Pimento cheese. But between the heat, and the $2.00 import Drafts, something will keep you coming back for the egg salad again and again.
For those that have never been, I highly recommend attending a practice round. Especially on Wednesday during the Par 3 tournament. You get to experience the beauty of The National, but with a more laid back feel. Some of my greatest sports memories were born on a Wednesday Par 3 challenge at The National. Before it even started, I saw one of my favorite golfers, Craig Stadler. I was playing collect a cup (Old Money speak for catching a buzz at The National) and something, probably the beer, prompted me to shout, "The Walrus!", above the crowd. Craig Stadler, known as the Walrus for his heavy set build and tusk shaped mustachio, called me over and asked me to walk with him. I got to walk with The Walrus and his lady friend to the fist hole of the Par 3, something I will never forget. Later that day, I had a thirty minute conversation with Scott Van Pelt. He has an incredible knowledge of all sports, I was truly impressed. I didn't even bring up his famed voice mail, which is why I called him over in the fist place. Finally, I got to watch Arnold Palmer, Gary Player, and Jack Nicklaus play their final round on the par 3 course. At the end I managed to score a high five from each of them. I didn't wash my hand for three months. As ESPN would say, it's Sports, not Crazy. But of all the sports memories, one of my earliest and certainly most memorable came in 1995.
Standing around an old tube television in my 3XL Braves NLCS Champion shirt, I watched my Atlanta Braves win the only professional sports title I have witnessed an Atlanta team win in my life. Damn you John Elway. Fellow Atlantan's will sympathize on the Falcons 1998 trip to the Super Bowl, where Elway viciously put an end to the Dirty Bird Madness that was sweeping the nation. It's tough being an Atlanta sports fan, but it's memories like David Justice's sixth inning home run that keep me showing up at Turner field year after year. I won't forget that Tom Glavine pitched eight one hit innings and then handed it over to closer, Mark Wholers, to finish the drill. When the 27th out landed in Marquis Grissom's glove, my house literally erupted, as I'm sure houses around the rest of Braves Country did as well. Sports are just as much about the past as they are the future. Sports have that amazingly uncanny ability to foster memories that will remain with you for the rest of your life.
So to Georgian's and Sports fans alike, I raise my glass (a 24 ounce Tervis Tumbler with the Masters logo I purchased at The National last year). Here's to the state so beautiful they wrote songs about her. The place I grew up. And the home of timeless sporting traditions like the Masters. A tradition unlike any other.
Make sure to create as many sports memories as you can with your friends and families. In my experience, they will stick with you much longer than anything else.
Go Braves. Enjoy The Masters.
-Calf Zilla
No comments:
Post a Comment