The Masters: a pretentious name, a great sporting event

AUGUSTA, Ga. — Was it the great Dan Jenkins who once wrote that the Masters is the championship of nothing?  What he meant was that no country, state, or organization gained recognition from the title. 

Masters? Who was so subjunctive to apply that label?

And yet, as Jenkins—who covered more than 220 major golf tournaments—was quick to admit, to the sport of golf, the Masters has become, if not everything, then almost everything.

The name itself implies a sporting event limited only to the best.

As the 89th Masters starts on Thursday, debates swirl on who the winner might be—perhaps Rory McIlroy finally grabbing the missing piece to complete his own grand slam, or Scottie Scheffler repeating for a second straight year, or one of the other names familiar even to those who don’t follow the game. 

Unquestionably the Masters—it wasn’t originally named that—and the city, Augusta, where it is held, have become almost interchangeable. There is an Augusta in Maine, but they don’t have a competition there where the winner gets a green jacket or headlines. And surely that Augusta’s motel rooms are not jacked up during the week from the normal price of $150 a day to $1,000 a day.   

Yet despite the negatives and not the undeserved criticisms, the Masters has become very much a part of both springtime and American sports.

That is in part attributable to Bobby Jones, the only golfer to win four majors in a calendar year (yes, two of those majors were the Amateurs, the British and the US) and who helped establish the tournament; to Arnold Palmer, who won it four times; to Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods, who dominated the tournament in their time and certainly in this television era, to CBS and Jim Nantz’s signature phrase, “A tradition unlike any other.”

Consider our sporting icons: the Rose Bowl, the Super Bowl, the Final Four, the Kentucky Derby, the World Series, and no less, the Masters. Annually and to a nation looking to escape all the woes of society, importantly.

Long ago, when the Super Bowl was growing into the monster it has become, the then NFL Commissioner, Pete Rozell, shrugged off complaints, insisting, “we are just entertainment.” 

So too are all big sports events, including the Masters, although in the revised outlook where odds are posted on everything, there also are gambling options, where someone can lose dollars as quickly as a pro might lose strokes.

How Bobby Jones might have done when there were numbers besides his name, other than the ones posted on the course, must remain speculation. 

But the current golfers contend they don’t worry what others predict or wager. McIlroy and Scheffler are this Masters’ co-favorites. That makes sense, but it may not make the bettor a lot of money.

What truly helped make the Masters legendary was Gene Sarazen’s stunning double eagle—an albatross two—on the 15th hole in 1935.

“It only took five minutes after that to become a major,” wrote Jenkins, somewhat humorously. 

It doesn’t matter if Jenkins was serious. He was absolutely correct.