There are certain places that you don't so much reach as attain. When you attain them, you want to throw up your arms and say, yes.
New Orleans, for me, is one of them. Bald Head Island is one of them. So is Augusta.
I pulled off I-20 early about 12:30 p.m. today and, had I not been driving, would have thrown my arms in the air. I
I don't love golf. I'm not going to pretend. But I love this place. Whether you're a fan or a member of the media, nobody treats you better.
The first three security guards I encountered could have graduated, with honors, from a school that teaches manners. How does Augusta National find so many nice people? And, if they're not nice, how does Augusta National convince them to pretend?