The US Masters may con you into taking up golf
Settling down to watch TV coverage of the US Masters from Augusta is arguably a highlight of the sporting calendar.
Despite a predicted absence of Augusta’s famous azaleas, the first golf major of the season is a treat for the eyes. The sun shines its sparkle onto plush greens which have been manicured to within an inch of their lives. Everything looks fresh and clean.
The US Masters is like that perfect dollop of clotted cream atop the finest scone you’ll ever eat. If a painter was given a blank canvas and asked to depict his idea of paradise, they would probably come up with the Augusta National. You get the idea.
You ponder: “How great would it be to take a stroll, striking a little white golf ball through such wonderful, pristine surroundings?” I’ve no doubt it would be fun for about two shots and then it’d be agony.
From my point of view, I don’t think the transition from the local pitch n’ putt would be easy. I’m used to hacking my way around a course that has unevenly cut grass. Where the ‘fairways’, if you can pick them out from rough and rougher, are strewn with the remnants of cracked golf tees and broken wannabe golfer’s dreams.
Augusta would be such a culture shock.
People say golf is good for the fitness. I agree, it’s particularly energetic if you’re terrible at the game. Strap a FitBit to your wrist and away you go. Watch as you clock up the miles and hack away from angles you never knew existed.
Showing the perfection of US Masters golf to armchair fans is cruel. My advice would be just kick back and watch it on television. Don’t attempt to recreate its glory because nothing can come close.