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It’s Time To Talk About It

It’s now Wednesday after Masters week, and I finally can start to think again.

I wrote last week about the DeKeuster boys’ trip to Augusta National, but now, in the words of one Paul Harvey, here’s “the rest of the story.”

Exactly one week ago, I walked through the gates of one of the most famous golf courses in America – and in the world for that matter. It was a special moment, one I had been dreaming of for a long time. And what made it even better: I had my father with me.

We both stood for a moment after passing the security gate, breathing in the Georgia pines air, inspecting the perfectly mowed grass, admiring the mass of polite people all gathered for one of the greatest weeks in sport. From there we headed to the memorabilia tent/shop/mall to purchase a couple of golf shirts to remember our trip – as if we could ever forget it.

Then it was time for the course, the main attraction. With Masters’ sweet tea in hand – which cost a whopping $1.50 – my father and I started our Augusta National trek. We pledged to walk every hole, from tee to green, and we did just that. Of course we had to stop along the way to sample the well chronicled food. Final tally – six sweet teas, four pink lemonades, two pimento cheese sandwiches, one BBQ pork, and two Georgia peach ice cream sandwiches. Final bill? Less than $25.

As the sun started to set, my father and I had walked the entire course, and even caught some of the par-3 tournament. Our bellies were full, smiles permanently pasted on our face.

The highlight of the day – without getting into too much detail – came down at Amen Corner. About a month ago I rushed to the hospital and was informed I had a kidney stone. Down at the place where crowds roar, no one cheered more loudly than me when I passed that darned stone. Yes, I passed a kidney stone at Augusta National.

Truly, a perfect day.



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