Not the greatest start to the week at Manchester airport.  Despite checking in online the previous evening I discovered that American Airlines still require anyone who is travelling anywhere with them to join this queue.  Almost 2 hours later I hadn’t even got rid of my suitcase and was left with ten minutes to clear security and leg it to the gate.  No time for a coffee, a loo stop – nothing!  Altogether too stressful!

 

 

Things are looking up – new facilities this year for the media.

 

 

 

 

 

From my indoor office to my outdoor one and my two broadcasting positions for the week:-

Stalking the players – all in the name of research!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And look who you bump into!

The Par 3 course is immaculately prepared for the Wednesday afternoon competition.  Alas, this year huge thunderstorms meant it was abandoned.

Remember Danny Willett won last year?  He learned about Jordan Spieth’s meltdown on the 12th as he was walking to the 16th tee and he also learned he had assumed the lead for the first time.  He ran to the loo at the back of the tee to compose himself and deliver the pep talk that saw him stride to victory.

I was working for Westwood One Sports while at Augusta, the radio arm of CBS television.  This was my second year with this crew and they are just fantastic.  This is the team at a production meeting on the Wednesday, ironing out the finer details before Thursday’s first round.  The majors aren’t just majors for the players, you know.

And now for the accomplishment of the week – step (or swim) forward Mr Turtle!

This is where my pictorial diary of the 2017 Masters comes to a close – and yes, it finishes on the Wednesday because there is a very strict no camera policy on the course after the practice days.  Even working media are forbidden from carrying phones on any day when outside the Press Building and colleagues have had their credentials revoked for leaving said building – even when the phone was switched off and in their pocket.  So, I leave you with one final picture.  This man has contravened one of Augusta National’s most sacred rules.  Take a good look at him – it’s unlikely you’ll see him in 2018!

First Seve, then Chema and, now, at last, Sergio.  The third Spaniard to win a green jacket at Augusta National came good just when we were all beginning to think that he’d blown his chances of ever winning a major and was destined to be a nearly man, a very, very good but never a great.   At least now he’s a very, very good with a major title to his name and contentment in his heart.

As the Masters became a tussle between Sergio and Justin, head to head, toe to toe, mano a mano in the final pairing, I was torn.  I didn’t want either of them to lose, especially as the round wore on and they both produced some terrific stuff as the tension increased.  I thought the spirit of Seve, who would have been 60 last Sunday, might see in Sergio’s birdie putt on the 72nd hole, the perfect end to a compelling contest but, no, they had to have another go and Justin’s drive into the trees proved too much of a handicap for the Englishman.

The Rose family accepted defeat with their usual grace, hugging Sergio and hiding their own disappointment as they took pleasure in his delight.  The Spaniard’s fiancee Angela Akins, an American, gave him plenty of space to savour the moment, only joining him as he was leaving the green.  All in all, a very emotional occasion and so far I haven’t come across a single English person who wasn’t happy that he’d won his major at last.

Even Spain, the land of football and tennis, has perked up and noticed golf again.  And as a bonus Jon Rahm, the young man who did so well in his first Masters, reminds quite a few old-timers of Seve, with his ambition and self-belief and that je ne sais quoi (sorry, wrong lingo) called charisma.  Seve was a force of nature and we all loved him, even though we were not blind to his faults. He could be moody, mean, bad-tempered, stubborn but we’d forgive him almost everything because of his genius and his humanity.  And, of course, we didn’t have to live with him.

At a tournament in Japan many years ago, I admired a sleeveless cardi Seve was wearing.  It was his own label, worn in Japan and unlike most of the stuff he wore in Europe.  A couple of days later he gave it to me, looked at Dai, my rather rotund husband, shrugged, smiled and said, “I don’t have anything to fit you.”  Killer pause:  “Except, perhaps, socks.”  Collapse of all parties, stout and otherwise.

If you saw Seve in his prime, or anywhere near it, you had to love him.  He was electrifying, he made staid, old golf exciting, explosive, entertaining.  And he and his contemporaries – all born within a year of each other – made European golf a force in the world.  Sandy Lyle, Bernhard Langer, Nick Faldo, Ian Woosnam, all major winners inspired by the passion of a mercurial Spaniard.

Jose Maria Olazabal was inspired by Seve too, partnered him in the Ryder Cup and between them they helped inspire generations of Spanish and European golfers.  Seve didn’t just belong to Spain, he was revered in Britain and Ireland, where they knew about golf and he belonged to Europe and golf everywhere.  Olly, like Seve, became Europe’s Ryder Cup captain and a two-time winner of the Masters.  He and Dai, who wasn’t quite in the same league as a player but had the game in his DNA, clicked and this photograph, taken when Olly was about to come back from a career-threatening injury, is a reminder of that connection.  There’s an inscription, faded now, that reads:  “To my dear friend Day [sic], with all my respect and appreciation, J M Olazabal.”

Viva Espana.

For your delight and delectation here is a little Masters 2017 identification test.  See if you can name the five players and their five coaches pictured here on the Masters tournament practice ground last week.  Answers next Friday.

Let’s start with an easy peasy one………………

And another fairly simple one……………

Slightly more difficult perhaps………………?

Definitely getting harder now!  This is a smaller picture because I had to cut the caddy out – he’s got the player’s name on his back and I thought that’d be a bit of a give away.

And if you get this one – well, hats off, – you do know your stuff!

 

Check in next week for the answers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Masters is timeless.

First played in 1934, this is the 81st playing of the tournament founded by Bobby Jones and Clifford Roberts and the wall to wall perfection of…..well, just everything, never changes.  Or does it?

Things don’t so much change here in this leafy corner of Georgia as evolve.   The course has evolved over the years – it is 500 yards longer than a mere ten years ago – the year Rory McIlroy turned pro – and judicious tweaking and planting on this erstwhile nursery land means that, despite appearances, nothing really ever does stand still.

Well, this almost imperceptible advancement has gone completely out of the window for 2017.  Just ask the members of the media!  Since we left here 12 months ago a brand new Press Building has arisen out of the land at the end of Berckmans Road looking more like a 7-star hotel than a facility for assorted print, television, radio and digital media.  There is a state-of the-art working arena and interview room where each seat features a hands-free microphone for questions.

The entrance is dominated by a soaring atrium and staircase with wall-mounted widescreen televisions ensuring not a single shot or interview is missed.  There are sound booths aplenty, suites for television, radio and photographers, locker rooms and a full service restaurant as well as a “grab and go”, faster option.

How did they manage it?  Well, we ordinary mortals know how long it takes to organise a new kitchen and bathroom at home, but three consecutive shifts of eight hours for nine straight months does tend to get a lot done.

One of my favourite touches is the wonderfully curved ceiling in the restaurant, a nod to the first press building at Augusta National – the Quonsett hut from which Dai Davies, my late brother-in-law, sent the first of his reports from some 35 Masters tournaments.

The next media centre, which remained in use until last year, was like Mission Control in Houston and was Patricia’s base for her 15 Masters tournaments or so.  Unlike the rest of us she doesn’t keep count!

And here am I, now, working on my third Masters, in the newly named Press Building, and open-mouthed at the working conditions I am enjoying this week.

And I just love the wonderful old photographs, a stunning pictorial history of the Masters, that line the walls.

Hard though it may be to believe but the perfection you see on your television screens each year is now mirrored INSIDE the Press Building.  There are copious lockers and cubby holes for all the untidy paraphernalia, cables, electronic devices and whatnot that we all travel with nowadays.   Why, each wastepaper basket has its own discreet housing so even the rubbish is tidy!

So, timeless?  Yes.  Standing still?  Absolutely not!