The "toona-mint"

The first round of The Masters was today. What a great place, and a great golf venue, if you're lucky enough to have tickets, or know someone who does or work for some corporation that hands them out to execs. Or of course if you're one of the members. Justin Rose leads after today's round. Temps on the western side of the state have gotten chillier in the past few days, and presumably so in Augusta four hours east. Easter Sunday, the final round, promises to be on the chilly side as well. (At least by our Deep South standards.)
Favorite Augusta National memories: When I lived and worked in Augusta, my dad came over a couple of times and we went to the practice rounds. This was in the long-gone era when they didn't require tickets for practice rounds. You'd just walk up and pay $20 and get to enjoy one of sport's greatest stages, just like rich folks. But then the crowds on those days got OOC--Out Of Control--so they started a lottery on those too. One night while my dad was there, we went to a Kroger and who should we see but Bernard Langer and his coach. My father, being the joker that he is, walked up to Langer and said, "Excuse me, but do you know where we could find the German potato salad?" (If you don't know, Langer's from Germany. And it's not as obnoxious a moment as it sounds. I had interviewed Langer previously at the
TPC in Florida, and re-introduced myself, then introduced my dad. Then he hit him with the potato salad joke. Luckily, Langer has a sense of humor.) Another incident involved a wayward ball on a Saturday. While standing near a putting green with some friends, I heard someone yell, "Heads up!" So I kept my head up. Dumb. Only to be hit by a ball, sure 'nough. It was struck by a player named David Frost, whom I believe lives in Australia. So of course we all back up to clear the way and he figures out who got hit and says to me, "You all right?" And I nod and we go on with life. But then I got home, called my parents and hoped that made it on national television. No such luck. TV, as you may have noticed, prefers the perfect shot and the miraculous moments. Especially at Augusta National.