The good, the bad, and the ugly of the Masters

Note: The following column appeared in the Thursday, April 13 edition of the Statesboro Herald.

I try to live my life by a code of ethics and rules to guide me though life. Rule number 32 is "If I attend the Masters after not writing a column for eight months, I write a column about my experience."

And since I was in Augusta for the golf tournament last weekend and haven't written a column since last July, I'm obligated to recap my time there. (By the way, rule seven is "Never sell your car for gas money.")

Instead of my typical "running diary" style to document my two days (Friday and Saturday) at Augusta National, I'm going with a new format.

The Good

By attending on Friday, we were able to see everyone playing the tournament, as opposed to seeing only those who made the cut. That means Official Brother and I got to see golf everyman John Daly before he faded into oblivion by failing to make the cut.

Also, we got to see David Duval play. Other than the fact that he was once the world's top player, the only reason this resonated with me is because I have a friend with the same name.

Another "good" from the trip was we knew what hole we were on. Last year, Official Brother and I spent most of the day thinking we were at the ninth hole when, in fact, we were at the second. (Needless to say, we are not what you would call "golf enthusiasts.")

On Friday, we sat at the ninth hole, thus completing the circle of life.

And for the second year in a row, we were complimented on our seat selection. Last year, two guys came up behind us and mentioned what a great spot we had to watch the players. This year, on Saturday, we sat at the sixth hole and also had a great view of the 16th green. Several people said we'd picked a good place to see a lot of action.

We may not know much about golf, but apparently Official Brother and I have a knack for picking good seats.

The Bad

Despite having great seats on Saturday, we didn't get to enjoy them much due to the rain that moved through the area. It's like having Catherine Zeta-Jones agree to go on a date with you, but then having to leave midway though the appetizers because she's feeling sick. (More on this later - the rain, not a date with Catherine Zeta-Jones.)

Also making the bad list is the fact that I don't know anyone in Augusta and therefore had to wake up before God to get there early enough to snag good seats.

I can assure you that waking up at 5 a.m. on Friday to drive to the course was not the highlight of my week. Making matters worse, on Saturday they didn't let anyone in until 9 a.m., a full hour after they normally open the gates. So we had to sit in the parking lot for 90 minutes instead of catching up on some much-needed slumber.

And perhaps the worst thing to happen during my time in Augusta, for the second year in a row, I didn't achieve my quest to meet ESPN announcer Scott Van Pelt. Some people want to cure cancer or travel to all 50 states in their lifetime. Not me, I'm hoping to meet a television personality at a golf tournament. (Note: His brother is shown on the left.)

And for some reason, some people think my priorities are out of whack.

The Ugly

As I mentioned earlier, it rained on Saturday. We knew it was going to rain. All the weather reports said water falling from the sky was a near certainty.

So did Official Brother and I bring an umbrella? Nope. Not only that, but we didn't even think to bring one. Thousands of people walking into the course with umbrellas and all I had was a windbreaker.

The lesson, as always — I'm an idiot.

Also making the list is golfer Tim Herron. Not so much for his play (he finished tied for 36th place), but for the fact that he was smoking a cigarette while playing.

Can you imagine LeBron James running down the court smoking or Michael Vick in the huddle with a cigar sticking out of his helmet? Golf truly is a strange game.

Speaking of athletes, the true athletes at the Masters are the caddies. Official Brother and I decided against walking the entire course in one day due to fatigue (granted, we're miserably out of shape), but the caddies had to walk more than four miles lugging their golfers clubs up and down the very hilly course for four days.

Those poor guys get no credit for the work they do. Not that any of them will read this, but a tip of the hat from me to them for their hard work.