Augusta National

I spent Thursday and Friday in Augusta, Georgia at Augusta National, home of the The Masters. Augusta National is incredibly well manicured in a way that can only be understood by witnessing it in person. The dramatic elevation changes, the perfect fairways, the $2.50 Master’s club—yes, the sandwich, not a 3 iron—and the understated elegance of a place that oozes history and leaves the thousands of “patrons” awestruck, no matter how many times you’ve visited. The grounds of Augusta National are inspiring. But it is not the golf that was the greatest inspiration. Instead, The Masters reaffirmed another, more powerful passion.

Early Thursday morning, soon after settling into our official “Master’s” chairs near the #2 green, I spotted two photogs among the patrons less than fifty feet to my left. Both were shooting Nikon D3s on monopods, with the sun at their backs. One was shooting a 600mm, the other an 800mm. Very quickly, I realized that I was watching the players, who came through in groups of threes, and trying to compose my own images. And very quickly, I was jealous.
Like most PGA golf tournaments, The Masters enforces a strict “no camera” policy during the four rounds of play. Cameras are encouraged for practice rounds. But I wasn’t there for a practice round. What an ironic juxtaposition.

There were photo opportunities throughout both days I was there. It started with honorary starters Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer opening the tournament. The view of a dozen mowers cutting the fifteenth fairway in perfect synchronization was captivating. And the three turtles that crawled out of the pond and onto the bank just below the sixteenth green with no less than ten thousand cheering spectators surrounding them would have made a great shot, especially each time a wayward shot found the bank beside them. And at one point, Tiger Woods played a bunker shot with the flagstick framed perfectly in the foreground between us. It would have made a splendid shot—if I had a camera.

Passion seems to be a constant theme lately. Finding it must be priceless. Maybe in the same way we seek passion in relationships or careers, I see something beautiful, different, or dramatic, and I long for a camera in my hand. Most every golfer dreams of playing Augusta National just one time—and so do I. But I also dream of shooting this spectacular cathedral of golf as a credentialed photographer, free to roam these grounds seeking feed one of my greatest passions.