It was five years ago this week that the November Masters was played at Augusta National, creating an extended moment that still glows like an autumn campfire in the night, crackling against the season’s encroaching chill.
Some may call it the COVID Masters because it was the pandemic that disrupted the cadence of professional golf the way it disrupted virtually everything else in the world but calling it the November Masters fits better, giving it more of a warm and cozy feeling.
The azalea blooms were replaced by autumn leaves. The sun, which set early by Masters standards, shone from a different angle. Instead of Easter, it was nearly Thanksgiving.
It was a Masters unlike any other.
Concessions were free. Visitors wore green Masters masks. Members walked the property in pullovers rather than their green jackets.
There were no roars, no patrons, no grandstands.
And, pandemic or not, there were no phones allowed on the golf course, though a few daring souls were seen scrolling or texting on the property that week.
Asked what it felt like to play the Masters in relative solitude, Kevin Kisner said, “It feels like you're out here preparing for a Masters, not really playing in a Masters.”
It was strange, almost awkward and, especially if you were among the handful of people on site that week, it was unforgettable.
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