Greensleeves

Mark Twain once said, “history never repeats itself, but it does often rhyme.” Welcome back to the place that does both, Augusta National Golf Club. On Thursday, Augusta will host the 87th edition of the Masters Tournament, golf’s high school reunion. It’s the same people every time and there are some you reeaaally hope don’t show up (here’s looking at you Brooks). There’s even a dinner beforehand-- which begs the question, does Patrick Reed have to sit at the kids’ table? Judging by Scottie’s menu, maybe everyone does.

Nonetheless, it's that time of year when the world falls in love and everything is verdant, even the sport coats. Magnolia Lane-- by definition an avenue, and by spirit a portal-- is the road to glory for some, but the boulevard of broken dreams for many more. The players better look sharp as they make that drive towards the clubhouse for straight is the gate and narrow is the way that leads to the back nine on Sunday. They are, after all, playing for the greatest trophy in sport. Arnie’s amulet, Tiger’s talisman, Jack’s…jacket. The Green One. Winning the Superbowl would be sick, but the Lombardi Trophy is only good for hoisting, plus you have to share it with like a hundred people. The Stanley Cup is especially dope, because not only can you hoist it, but you can drink out of it too. Pick your poison. 

The only downside is, you can’t wear it. Gold medals, you can wear those, but after a while you end up looking like an 8-year old who just participated in Field Day. But a blazer? It's universal, you can hoist it, you can't drink out of it but hell, you can drink in it. You can even get it dry-cleaned! And if clothes maketh the man, the question to be asked is: who will be the made man?

First and foremost is Rory McIlroy, for whom this championship would unlock the career Grand Slam, which, in turn, would make him the sixth golfer to complete the feat. His game is seemingly built for Augusta (for everywhere quite frankly), but that hasn’t stopped him from tweaking his gear this season. A new driver and a Scotty Cameron have made the bag. The Ulsterman’s cracking form this year should see him chasing this thing like a dog would.

How about the Prince That Was Promised, Jordan Spieth? The wunderkind won one in wonderous fashion at age 21, but has since known only heartbreak. His records at The Masters are tantamount to Tiger in many cases. Can he conquer Golden Bell or will the 12th yet again keep his coat count from going from one to two? How many more times?

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! The Spanish Armada on the other hand…Jon Rahm may be the best golfer in the world right now so it should come as no surprise if he joins the likes of fellow countrymen Ballesteros, Olazabal, and Garcia in donning the dinnerwear.

LIVer damage? Still awaiting results. The Saudi Tour will have 18 members competing this week, some of whom are former champions (DJ, Reed, Louis, Sergio). While comprising a sizable chunk of the field the golfing world has yet to see them in the confines of a regular golf event in some time. What rust, if any, has accumulated? Can they put together 72 holes against their former tourmates? Can those who have been seen as robbing golf of its innocence win their way back into relevance? Questions that need answering and which surely have them asking, “Can I live?”

This is the part where history repeats itself. Someone will sit in Butler Cabin with Jim Nantz. Someone will stand in front of the members and patrons amongst the wash of camera flash. Someone will be on the Tonight Show Monday night. Someone will start crafting their Champions Dinner at their next meal. 

Who will that someone be? Just make sure you’re there for the Back 9 on Sunday.

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@Choppinglines

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