Witnessing Greatness at the Masters

 The following was originally written for the Toccoa Record in 2017 upon the occasion of the first Masters after the death of Arnold Palmer.  I offer it now, with some slight edits, as another Masters begins.  

The 87^th edition of the Masters Golf Tournament begins today in Augusta.  One cannot think of the Masters without thinking of the great Arnold Palmer. Arnold Palmer’s legend goes hand in hand with the hallowed cathedral of golf on Washington Road in Augusta.  Starting in 1954, Arnold Palmer played in fifty consecutive Masters Tournaments.  He won on four occasions.

            He played his last round as competitor at the Masters in 2004 but he moved into the role of hitting the ceremonial first tee shot for a number of years, thereafter. Palmer was loved by legions of fans who followed him faithfully, referring to themselves as “Arnie’s Army.”  He was amazingly popular and moved golf into the mainstream of our sporting consciousness. Arnie’s Army was never more prevalent than it was at Augusta.  Long after Palmer had passed, and during his prime as a golfer, the army still followed.

            Thirty-seven years ago, I attended my first Masters.  It was on a Friday.  My host and I set out from Macon long before the sun broke over the horizon.  We drove through the rolling hills of the Middle Georgia Piedmont and made our way to Interstate 20 into Augusta and then onto the sacred turf of the Augusta National.

            We made the dash over to the fifteenth hole and set up shop and waited for the first twosomes to arrive.  I forget who the first parings were that came up the fifteenth hole that day but I remember that around 11:00 I had a very memorable experience.

            Arnold Palmer was strolling up the fifteenth fairway.  He had shot an 83 the day before and was not going to make the cut to play the final two rounds of the tournament.  In spite of the fact that he was not in contention, a large crowd was following him.   

            The fifteenth hole at Augusta National is a par five.  It is one of the most exciting holes on the course.  Golfers can put their ball on the green, in two shots at times, and can score and eagle (two shots under par on the hole) with some skill and a little luck.  In 1937 Gene Sarazen scored a double eagle on the hole enabling him to win the second Masters ever played. 

            Palmer stood on top of the hill in the fairway that day.  There was excitement in the crowd.  Would Palmer try to hit the ball on the green in two?  Could he, at his age, hit the ball onto the green in two? He was four years younger in 1987 than I am now but that seemed a lot older back then.

            I heard a female voice behind me say “Come on Arnie, you can do it!”  Other than her voice there was total silence.  He struck the ball.  It sailed through the cool morning air and crossed over the small pond that guards the front of the fifteenth green.  While the ball didn’t land on the green it did land right beside it.  The gallery erupted.

            Palmer walked up the fifteenth fairway with those assembled applauding as he walked.  Soon he was close enough that I could see the familiar face.   He seemed larger than life.  He wore a grin that looked as if he was very pleased and content.  As he walked, I suddenly and truly grasped his appeal.  He looked at the gallery and said, “Good morning” over and over again.  As he passed me, he looked and said “Good morning.”  I almost expected him to say, “Good morning, John.”  He was my buddy if just for a moment. He just had a connection with people. I can’t describe it but I felt it.

            Palmer chipped his ball onto the green, two putted and made a par on the hole.  He would not make the cut.  In the annals of golf history what I witnessed was not long remembered. 

           It was a historic year at the Masters. Larry Mize became the first native Augustan to win the tournament with a  magnificent chip on the eleventh hole winning a play-off against Greg Norman and Steve Ballesteros.  Yet, that isn’t what I remember.

            What I will long remember is that for a few moments there on the fifteenth hole I saw greatness.  I didn’t witness the greatness of a golfer.  In Arnold Palmer I witnessed the greatness of a person.  I saw one of the persons that God has given the gift to truly connect with others.  I was able, for a fleeting moment, to make eye contact with greatness.  We weren’t there to see a golfer.  We were there to see Arnold Palmer.

            In the end it wasn’t his ability as a golfer that made Palmer great. Rather, it was who he was as a person.  The same can be true for any of us.  What we do to make a living does not define us.  Rather our true greatness is found in our heart.