I took up golf on a semi-regular basis about 18 months ago after playing intermittently for years but rarely in Australia. I spent so much time on the road I was playing more golf in Korea than here. There was this one time (not at band camp), early one morning in early spring, so it was still very cold, I hit a perfect wedge onto a green and it bounced almost as high as I hit it and finished up adjacent to the next tee. But that’s another story. Now that I am back playing it’s likely there will be more golf stories. Here’s the first.
The Masters finished recently and the Tiger is back. Will Augusta retain its aura or has the fact that the winner was someone who hasn’t won a major for 11 years, rubbed off some of the mystique. I suspect this says more about Tiger than Augusta but we’ll see.
Augusta National Golf Club is said by some, to be the most exclusive club in the world. Not as exclusive as the “Fell 30,000 Feet Without a Parachute and Survived” club or the “Olympic Medal for Underwater Swimming” club or the “Duelling Survivors” club but still rather difficult to get into.
When the Masters comes round each year I get an attack of the Groucho Marx’s. Most people (men mainly) would give their wives to be members of Augusta National. It’s not particularly expensive to join (if you’re reasonably well off) but it’s by invitation only and if you make it known that you’d be receptive to an invitation, forget it. In this vein, some of the rules and regulations are rather quaint which gets us back to Groucho.
Groucho once said he wouldn’t be a member of a club that would have him as a member and I’m sort of that way with Augusta. Not because they wouldn’t like me (said he, gazing into a mirror) but because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like them. Not least of these quaint ways is the “Fight Club” rule – the first rule of Augusta is you don’t talk about Augusta unless you’re the chairman. Fair enough I guess if we’re talking about secret men’s business (there are a few women in the membership of 300) but having the New Year countdown at 10.30pm is just ridiculous. And there’s no running, no cell phones, no sitting or lying on the grass etc etc.
So where does that leave us? Augusta will never invite me but if they did I wouldn’t join. No no, it’s no use begging. I’ve made my mind up. I’m more than happy hacking my way round Nudgee Golf Club’s south course or whatever it will be when the renovations finish. I’d rather be fighting off the midges than smelling the magnolias. Never did like magnolias.