Best Job In The World

I have the best job in the world. You might think you do, but you don’t. I do.

But it’s okay to have the second-best job in the world. I’m here in Augusta for The Masters for what I believe is the 25th time. Augusta National never fails to amaze in its spendor and its value as a championship golf course.


People who come here, me included, adore this place. It’s the Sistine Chapel of our game. And, to boot, it’s a very difficult course. But because of its nature, the cheers and shouts can ring out through the pines on the back nine on Sunday when someone, anyone, starts climbing the leaderboard.

From the pimento cheese sandwiches to the champion’s green jacket, it’s a privilege to be here. And I try not to forget that. I realize I am a journalist and I’m being paid to report on what happens here this week, which is why I have the best job in the world.

But I also realize that I’m very lucky to be here.

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