Amen Corner and ....

"Some emotions cannot be endured with a golf club in your hand" - a quote from Bobby Jones regarding his temper and club-throwing. I know what he meant because as we were approaching the Amen Corner, (hole 11, 12 and 13) the emotions bubbling up inside me could only be endured with tears, as no words were good enough to justify what I felt.

I feel embarassed by my reaction, but, it was like entering heaven and saying, " I made it, I am saved after all." Almost like a religious experience. And I am not alone in thinking that because the next day when we met with some touring pros from Asia, a guy named Chua expressed the same feelings and observation without me even telling him about my own experience. In 1958, Herbert Warren Wind, a journalist with Sports Illustrated coined the word Amen Corner in search of a perfect name for the location where the critical action was taking place that year. A poetic moment in golf and all a journalist could do is borrow an old jazz recording title "Shouting from Amen Corner" to describe it.

In the early 80's, while still in Manila, my friend NJ and his friend JC would fondly banter about "green jacket, amen corner and tee time." I knew what tee time meant, but did not relate green jacket and amen corner to golf. Augusta,I presumed was another racehorse.

So you can imagine, when 25 years later, my pumas walked the grounds of Augusta, surveyed Amen Corner and the men in green jackets. "When you see men in green jackets, it means they are members of this club." NJ relayed the trivia to me almost in a whisper. And NJ is not one to waste saliva on things that he himself is not impressed with.I noticed a few more "green men" strategically scattered along the course and I watched them almost with a reverential awe.

Those men walked around in that jacket like how the Pope strut in his mitre. That jacket sure did something because there's this man who was square,round and not tall--we would easily call him fat and ugly, were it not for the reverence of the jacket. But watch my lips on this, I will not bend a knee for that Gucci spectacled, Prada footed man in the Vatican regardless how many Roman numerals are added after his name. But I will with both knees for those men in green jacket. Square or round.

I did not appreciate the trees we had in our yard when we lived in a house, because spring means raking in dead leaves and tons of them. I like trees as long as I don't have to clean up after them. And walking around the course were young men in yellow overalls and green cap-you would think they were caddies badly needing attention, but their backs says "Litter". Yes, they were cleaning up after the people..... and the trees. Arranging pine needles.

The most abundant tree at the course is the pine and around 1600 azaleas of about 30 varieties landscaped hole number 13 from tee to green. Each of the holes are adorned with a plant after which it was named . It could not be more appropriate because the course used to be the site for Fruitland Nurseries. Since the course was built and formally opened in 1933, an estimated 80,000 more plants of 350 varieties have been added. I was awestruck at the landscape I did not even notice the Tiger approaching the 11th tee. And just as he was a spit away from me, my camera battery died on me. I cried again.

On my flight back to Dallas I read in the paper about some woman protesting about Augustas' exclusionary policy against women. I understand there are merits to this so-called feminists' movement. But all I am asking is, are we ready to see men waltzing into the womens restrooms and let them use the sink as a urinal, while we are powdering our high noses next to them? Equal opportunity ---I think I am going to cry again.

The Masters

To say I had the best time in Augusta is only half the story. I don't remember why or how I fell in love with golf. As a young girl, part of my house chore was to take our carabao to pasture. It is important that the carabao eats well because it supports the family by plowing the field. I would be perched on its back feeling tall with the wind blowing in my face as it took me to a greener pasture, the Cebu Country Club. We lived next to the only golf course in the island and I would take my carabao there because the grass next to the fairways were always green and abundant. Most days, when I found stray golf balls, (mostly from the Japanese golfers) I would collect them and take them home for my brother to break open and pry out the small bouncing rubber ball inside. We had no use for the golf balls as we didn't have any friends who played golf-we had no rich friends. But we could play with the bouncing little rubber ball.
Fast forward to a few years later, I got a job, moved to Manila and acquired an American boyfriend to boot. Besides drinking, he loved to scuba dive but talks and breath golf most of the time when he was not talking about a "racehorse." Translation : good looking women.
One afternoon he took me to this country club called Wack-Wack, to claim his prize; a thermos bottle. My first time inside a country club so I tried to act like how people act in a country club. Like I'm used to it. It did not feel right --feeling tall even without the carabao?

Twenty five years later, the now ex-boyfriend, ex-golfer, took me inside the grounds of Augusta National for the 2007 Masters. I was overwhelmed with emotions I could not come up with the right words to justify what I felt. I was elated for the experience of being inside, but also, there was this tinge of emotion that was hard to discern. When he put his arm over my shoulder to point my attention to the pine needles neatly raked in to an almost decorative pile, I felt a different surge of emotion. The momentary weight of his arm on my shoulder was comfortable. I felt at home.

It was great watching the pros'- the heralded and the unheralded do the practice rounds . It was fun eavesdropping on peoples conversation too. One woman asked her husband what Tiger Woods babys' name was. He didn't remember, he said. Came to find out, Tigers wife is not even due til July. As we got to our seats at the bleachers, 2 men sat in front of us. I got hungry watching them eating eating an egg salad sandwich and pimiento cheese sandwich. But then the other guy started talking out loud about everything; from his homosexual neighbor to global warming. If they pay him 150k, he would find global warming, he assured his buddy. I did not know you are supposed to find global warming. His annoying subjects turned my hunger into anger, but in that environment I found it hard to really be angry and mean it.

Inside the Augusta National, there was much to savor. My eyes could only look at so much and my heart can only feel so much. I am just now beginning to describe them in my minds eye and gently trying to preserve the pitter- patter in my heart. Gently, least I wake up.