Having made 20-odd visits to Augusta National between 1989 and 2024, your humble correspondent won’t be visiting golf’s so-called “rite of spring” this year. And you know what? I am more than happy not to be going there. Which doesn’t exactly make me unique. As many of my fellow journalists like to say, the best view of Augusta, Georgia is in the rearview mirror. Arriving can be a thrill; leaving is invariably a relief.

Don’t get me wrong. I have strong feelings of envy for those fans – and players – who will be making their maiden visits to the boyhood home of former American president Woodrow Wilson (by way of contrast, “wrestler” Hulk Hogan also grew up in the “Garden City”). However, at least in my experience, the downsides of Masters week soon enough see off any upsides.

At first, the Orwellian atmosphere within the club grounds and myriad pointless rules are mildly amusing, but before too long they gravitate to “irritating”. And eventually many of them actually prevent the working press from doing their jobs properly.

Which might sound more than a little ungrateful when one considers the opulent grandeur of the Gone With The Wind-style media centre. However, the distant location of that building is more telling than the over-the-top facilities. So far is it from the action – in the furthest corner of the club grounds, to be exact – that journalists require buggies to ferry them back and forth. The hardly subtle subliminal message? “Know your place.”

The 7th is a nice stroll for some. PHOTO: Getty Images.

The unspoken truth, of course, is that those who run one of our game’s most exclusive clubs could quite happily do without the members of the Fourth Estate. In a modern world dominated by moving pictures, traditional media long ago lost most of its usefulness to the secretive green jackets. They are there on increasingly ill-concealed sufferance.

A few years ago – and two weeks or so before the Masters – I was fortunate enough to accompany a high-profile player to Augusta National. For him, it was a reconnaissance round ahead of what locals call the “toonamint”. For me, it was an opportunity to walk the course inside the ropes and in a way I had never done before. And yes, I did get a kick out of standing on the 12th and 13th greens; locations normally viewed from a distance.

Here is the thing though. Not until I attended the 2023 U.S Open at the incredibly snooty Los Angeles Country Club had I ever felt less welcome than I did that day at ANGC. One day before our visit, my friend’s office had received a call from the club enquiring as to why a journalist was visiting. It was never my intention to write anything – positive or negative – but the officials clearly felt a need to check.

Anyway, we were walking up the 7th fairway (I wasn’t allowed to play, of course) when a buggy appeared. In it were the then-club manager and president. And superficially at least it was a pleasant encounter. There was a welcome and a wish that we enjoy our day. However, as an example of passive aggressiveness, it was hard to beat. Not-so-subtle subliminal message: “We’re watching you, so don’t even think about hitting a shot or a putt.”

As for Masters week itself, one thing in particular has always intrigued this observer. While it is rare to hear any public complaints regarding the spectator experience, it must be said that walking the premises (no running, remember) is far from straightforward. Following a group and witnessing every shot is all but impossible. It can’t be done. Bottlenecks are everywhere and long waits to cross fairways are far from uncommon. In short, it is relentlessly annoying and often enough far from enjoyable.

That nothing has ever been done to improve such situations speaks to an obvious conclusion: the green jackets simply don’t care. If they did, something would be done about it. For them, golf’s equivalent of “Big Brother” control is obviously everything.

All of which is not to say there aren’t many positive aspects to a day or days at the Masters. Yes, it really is an experience like no other, one which any golfer would surely be happy to tick off the bucket list. By way of example, the reasonable food and drink prices are commendable when compared with the extortionate costs at the other three majors. Close-up views of iconic holes like the aforementioned 13th are unforgettable. And car parking is free.

But more than once? Not for me.