The Masters experience through the lens of a Middle Georgia boy and his father

“Hayes.”

Walking up to No. 2 green at Augusta National, my eyes were peeled on Keith Mitchell. But then I heard a voice calling.

As I peered over my shoulder, I noticed a man and his son. The man, Roger Culver, was wearing a collared shirt with “Brickyard” printed on the chest. Knowing The Brickyard is the name of a Macon golf course, my interest was piqued.

Roger had noticed the orange “Mercer Golf” lettering and white, cursive “Hayes Rule” underneath it on the backpack draped over my shoulders.

“You’re from Mercer?” Roger asked.

I said yes, which led to a 7-hole walk through the blooming azaleas, pristine fairways (but muddy walkways) and historic holes of Augusta with a father, his son and some random journalist simply soaking in the experience.

Finding Masters tickets at the grocery store

Roger grew up in Sparta, roughly an hour from Augusta National. He has been to the Masters between 12 and 15 times and said he has noticed how the tournament has changed in the many years since he was a kid.

Working at a local grocery store, Roger said he would find Masters tickets just lying around. It was not as difficult to walk through the entrance gate back then. Now, a lot more commercialized, according to Roger, he said they probably sell the same amount of tickets, but everyone who can get a ticket goes to the tournament.

“Nowadays, it’s an event, the hardest ticket you can get in sports, as they say,” Roger said. “And I believe it.”

The Culvers received tickets through an attorney friend in Augusta. Roger jumped at the opportunity to take Will, his 14-year old son, to experience the Masters for the first time.

Will is in eighth grade at First Presbyterian Day and started playing golf almost two years ago. As a sixth grader, Will broke his foot playing baseball. Roger thought Will would take after his father and play baseball, but after the injury, Will took an interest in the links.

“Out of the blue he tells us he wants to play golf,” Roger said. “I saw him hit a couple of balls, and ‘Wow, he’s not bad.’ And then it kind of progressed really fast for him. He was really bit by the bug really quick.”

The family is bitten by Dawg fever, as well. Their love for the Bulldogs drew them to following Mitchell early on Thursday. After watching the honorary first tee shot by Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player, the Culvers stayed in the first fairway.

They followed Mitchell and caught up with me on No. 2 green.

Passing down the knowledge

“Agh. That’s two holes in a row he’s done that,” Roger said.

Mitchell hit his tee shot on No. 3 in the bunker with a 3 wood. He did the same thing on the par-5 second hole with a driver.

As Mitchell dealt with the bunker and eventually made a 20-foot par putt on the hole, Roger told me of their sleeping arrangements the night before coming to Augusta. The Culvers split up the two-and-a-half-hour drive from Macon to Augusta by staying in Roger’s hometown of Sparta.

They stayed in one of Roger’s friend’s cabins in the woods. Roger and Will slept on a recliner and sofa. For about an hour, the two heard the chatter of a coyote right outside the cabin.

“He was talking to his girlfriend. Or he was a girl talking to her boyfriend,” Roger said. “It was one or the other.”

Roger and Will also skipped balls across a lake near the cabin, attempting to emulate the professionals who do so on No. 16 at Augusta National during practice rounds.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” Roger said.

“We got one across, though,” Will said in response.

As we walked to the fourth tee, I mentioned to Will the distance of the par 3: about 240 yards. While the professionals were pulling out irons, Will said, “This is a driver for me.”

Mitchell went on to hit his approach shot about 30 yards short of the green, just in front of the bleach-white sand bunker protecting the flagstick like a royal guard.

“That’s how you get fired as a caddie,” Roger said.

Mitchell made a couple of course management mistakes in the first four holes but was only one-over par after failing to get up-and-down.

Looking at Mitchell’s difficult chip, I noticed the pristine conditions of Augusta. No blade of grass is out of place. No shade of tint anywhere near brown on the color wheel is noticeable. Any divot is often swiftly placed back in its original place by a volunteer.

“There’s not a bad lie here,” Roger said. “Even in the rough, the ball is sitting up like it’s on AstroTurf.”

The only worn parts of the course are the patron walkways, which we used to walk to No. 5. Because of the amount of rainfall recently, the walkways are muddy and covered by some type of substance to absorb the moisture. One patron mentioned it might be kitty litter.

But the muddy shoes and smell didn’t stop Will from walking alongside his dad throughout the day, like a magnet to its partner. Will was the quieter of the two, soaking in the experience of watching professionals at one of the most prestigious golf courses in the world.

Roger, the advisor, passed on the knowledge he has gained over the years to his son. During walks through five and six, Roger reminisced on stories of Augusta past, including one involving John Daly, alcohol and a trailer.

‘What you see on TV and what you see in real life are two different things’

After an accidental wrong turn trying to get to No. 6, we eventually caught up to Mitchell on No. 7 green. All of us noticed how the course looks different than on television.

Thursday’s pin position on No. 6 placed the hole in the back right portion of the green, on top of a slope that looked like the Mount Everest of green slopes.

“What you see on TV and what you see in real life are two different things,” Roger said. “It is a lot more hilly, the greens are a lot more bumpy and undulating.”

Will mentioned how open the course felt. He said, on television, it seems the course is guarded by trees and closed off, but in person, you can see multiple holes at once. Standing on No. 1 tee, someone can see for what looks like miles -- most of No. 18, part of No. 9 and then all the way down to No. 2 green, No. 7 and No. 8 tee.

No. 8 is where we caught back up to see Mitchell teeing off. After hitting a poor second shot right of the green with a 3 wood, Mitchell bit off his glove as he looked forward toward the green.

Will watched, trekking forward in black and red shoes in support of the Bulldogs. Red and black are also the colors for First Presbyterian Day. And not to mention, the infamous Sunday colors of Will’s favorite player: Tiger Woods.

Woods was set to tee off right as Mitchell was making the turn. A sea of colors surrounded the first hole as Roger, Will and I walked down No. 9 fairway. Looking to our left, we saw the thousands of faces anticipating the four-time Masters champion.

“We’re going to hold up and watch Tiger (Woods) come up No. 1 fairway,” Roger said.

We said our farewells, going in separate directions for the remainder of the day. Of the dozen or so times Roger has been to the Masters, he said Thursday was his favorite because he was able to go with his son.

“I was really looking forward (to) going and seeing it through his eyes,” Roger said. “I took him to the cathedral of golf in the United States. Without leaving the States, that is it … It’s indescribable.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to go with anyone else,” Will said.