BY John Steinbreder
As great a story as Tiger Woods was whenever he played in the Masters, it was never fun covering him during that tournament. At least for me. The crowds following the golfer, often five and six rows deep, were a nuisance and made it hard to see or hear anything he did or said. So, what I ended up doing whenever an editor asked me to write Tiger was head out for a hole or two to get a sense of the atmosphere. Then, I would return to Augusta National’s Press Building to follow the rest of the action from that post, going back to the course only for his post-round interview scrum after he had signed his scorecard.
But all that changed for one Masters, the tournament that was staged in November 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic had led organizers to postpone the tournament for seven months and then severely limit the number of people who were able to attend when it was finally held. There were no patrons, period. And only a quarter of the usual number of news media members. As for the players, they were allowed just a plus-one on site along with their caddies.
It was in many ways a wonderfully weird Masters. There was an utter lack of traffic on the roads around Augusta – and at the bars of its restaurants. And anyone wanting to come onto the Augusta National grounds had to take – and more importantly pass – a COVID test. The on-course merchandise pavilions were closed. But concession stands were open, with food and drink offered free of charge. None of the club members wore their green jackets, and there were no ropes lining the fairways and greens. No grandstands either.
But what surprised and delighted me most was how the absence of patrons allowed me to cover Woods at Augusta in a way I had never been able to do previously. Which was with nary a soul around.
But as I stood by the first tee when Woods and the rest of his threesome – which included Irishman Shane Lowry and reigning U.S. Amateur champion Andy Ogletree – assembled there the first day of play, I realized I was one of maybe 30 people in attendance.
It is worth noting at this juncture that Tiger was the defending champion in 2020, having captured the previous year’s tournament – and his fifth Masters overall – in ways that were as compelling from a competitive perspective (coming from behind on the second nine Sunday to win by a stroke) as they were emotionally enthralling (hugging it out with his son, Charlie, behind the 18th green, much as a younger Tiger had with his father after winning his first green jacket in 1997).
Under normal circumstances, then, Tiger would have drawn a massive gallery in 2020 and following his group, if only for a few holes, would have once again been a joyless slog. But as I stood by the first tee when Woods and the rest of his threesome – which included Irishman Shane Lowry and reigning U.S. Amateur champion Andy Ogletree – assembled there the first day of play, I realized I was one of maybe 30 people in attendance. And I remember thinking after hearing just a smattering of applause when Tiger hit his drive how this Masters felt like a Walker Cup and not the biggest tournament in golf.
That sensation only grew through the round, and I relished the intimacy it afforded us. I had unobstructed views of every shot Tiger hit and was able to discern – and marvel at – the crisp sound each one made. I could hear most every word he and his caddie, Joe LaCava, exchanged as well as those that were uttered within the threesome itself. It was not exactly a chatty group, and there were many moments of silence during the round. But those were just as revealing as the conversations, for they drove home the seriousness of the golf they were playing and the high levels of concentration it was demanding of each one.
And yes, I ended up walking the entire round with Tiger. How could I not, given that I had him pretty much to myself at a Masters?
