PETE MOLLICA \ Golf How grand (son) it is to miss playing Augusta National

It's been 21 years since I made my only trip to Augusta, Ga., for the Masters golf tournament.
No, that wasn't the year Jack Nicklaus, at age 46, won his sixth green jacket with a remarkable back nine at Augusta National. It was the year before when Bernard Langer won the title.
I wasn't actually covering the tournament, but I took a week's vacation to visit the one place I've always dreamed about.
My wife and I spent the first part of the week visiting relatives in Atlanta and I didn't get to Augusta National until Thursday morning for the first round.
Since I arrived at 7:30 a.m. and the first tee time wasn't until 10 a.m. I pretty much had the place to myself.
I pulled into the parking lot and I ended up in the front row, not 10 steps from the entrance gate.
Walked the course
But it was a great time to be there and I did what every golf lover would expect me to do -- I went out and walked all 18 holes on the golf course.
I know you've seen it on television, but until you walk the course like I did, you just can't believe the beauty of this layout.
By the time I returned I had missed the honorary start of the tournament where Byron Nelson, Gene Sarazen and Sammy Snead all hit shots down No. 1 fairway.
Then I went to the clubhouse and pro shop and bought about $200 worth of souvenirs for friends back home.
By Friday's second round I was finally into the tournament and by Saturday afternoon I was so hooked on Augusta National that I was ready to move south.
Sitting in the press tent with Cleveland Plain Dealer writer George Sweda and the Pittsburgh Post Gazette's Marino Parencenzio, I noticed a tournament official going around the press room with a big tablet.
I asked George what he was doing and he told me that he was taking a list of names of media members who were going to stay Monday and play the course.
Incredulous
"Play the course -- you mean we can stay and play the course?" I almost screamed.
When he came over I quickly gave him my name, not even thinking that I was due back to work on Monday morning. I'd figure something out.
I was so excited that I didn't even stay to the end of the round, but raced back to Atlanta to tell my wife we were staying an extra day.
As I pulled into the driveway I saw that my wife was out on the porch with our suitcases. Before I got out of the car she was telling me that our daughter just went to the hospital to deliver our first grandchild and that we were leaving right away.
As excited as I was about a chance to play Augusta National, I was more excited about my first grandchild and we left.
To this day I have never told my wife about my chance to play Augusta National.
We were halfway home when we got word that my daughter delivered a baby boy, Jeffery.
Lingering effect
He'll be 21 this month and he still wonders why his grandfather never speaks to him. (Just kidding.)
I've never gone back to the Masters, although I heard that a year or two later they did away with allowing the media to play the course after the tournament. I guess they were tearing up the golf course a little too much and the members complained.
I'll be watching again today and I'll be remembering what it was like walking the course that first morning, but I've stopped thinking about what it would have been like to actually play the golf course, just as the pros did in the final round of the Masters in 1985.
mollica@vindy.com