Missing Tiger: A Masters Without Woods

For golf fans, Masters weekend at Augusta National is a spring ritual that we look forward to all winter. From the azalea bushes that are usually in full bloom; to the silly all-white outfits that the caddies wear; to the winding creeks in front of the thirteenth and fifteenth greens, where many challengers have come to grief late on Sunday afternoons; to the hushed voices of the CBS commentators, who for these four days are obliged to refer to spectators as “patrons”—we are suckers for it all. Even those of us who are offended by the elitism, sexism, and racism that have long been part of Augusta’s heritage—and, to be sure, that isn’t every golf enthusiast—can’t resist the tournament itself, the hunt for the “green jacket,” especially if Tiger Woods is playing and contending.

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