Dave Tindall on the excitement of returning to Augusta National and some of his favourite memories from 2011.
Dave Tindall on the excitement of returning to Augusta National and some of his favourite memories from 2011
Many say there's nothing like the magic of a first trip to Augusta.
Indeed, a French journalist once told me that the day he found he was going to The Masters for the first time he ran onto the Champs Elysees and let out a primal scream.
I personally don't go in for guttural roars in public places so, ahead of my own first trip to The Masters last year, it was more a case of catching myself daydreaming about azaleas and Amen Corner whilst riding public transport to my workplace in Leeds.
So am I a bit more blaze about my return this year?
Not a bit of it!
I have to say I've had at least one Augusta thought every day since the start of the year. And you can probably stretch that back to the last three months of 2011.
Far from feeling less excited about a second trip to The Masters, I'm actually more!
Quite simply, I know just how good it is. I know more now about how everything works and my pleasure levels won't be compromised by thoughts of doing things wrong or standing in the incorrect place.
I do admit there were times at last year's Masters when I got a bit flustered and felt like I was wandering around with an imaginary hat on saying "Masters virgin".
I laughed along nervously when local media discussed the disaster of there being no pimento sandwiches due to a thunderstorm causing an outage in the production centre. Now I know that these are one of the staples of the Masters experience.
Imagine going to an Open and there being no Fish and Chips for sale and you get the idea. There is, though, one big difference - Fish and Chips will knock you back about seven quid on an Open course. At Augusta, food prices have been frozen at 1950s levels so, incredibly, a pimento sandwich will cost you just one dollar.
Experience to treasure
That huge concession on food is part of the Masters philosophy of making sure the patrons have a great time and an experience to treasure. And, boy, do they make a good job of it.
Having regularly stood in a combination of straw, filthy water, discarded tissues and you know what in a mobile portaloo at an Open, I was genuinely amazed when I needed my first on-course toilet break at Augusta.
Not only were the facilities housed in their own building, there was an attendant on the door! And, of course, it goes without saying that inside everything was spotlessly clean.
There are no 'buts' when it comes to being a Masters patron (a deserved title as you really do feel a little more special than a 'fan' or 'spectator'). The viewing experience and ambience (tweeting birds, a feeling of calm until a huge roar breaks out) are sensational and it's all complemented by cheap, tasty food and A1 toilet facilities.
Being a member of the media is also a very different experience.
At an Open, you're in a big tent, concerned at times that the roof will blow off. At Augusta you're in a state-of-art media centre building, sat in a big theatre with the world's fastest internet.
There is still something deeply satisfying about being at an Open of course. The natural terrain. All that history. Somehow it feels good for the soul even if you're being buffeted around and pelted with sideways rain.
But Augusta is something else. And even though I'm a man in my early 40s it feels right to call it "magical".
Justin Rose once said that coming to Augusta was like getting a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.
When did he say that? On his debut in 2004? No, Rose came out with that last year when he was about to tee off in the Masters for the sixth time.
No wonder I'm stupidly giddy about making my first return.
