Masters week is like no other. The glorious colours. The dignity. The unforgiving layout, surreptitiously belying its beauty. It is an event which transcends sport. Where else would you hear grown men openly marvel at a garden bed? Three years ago this writer was gifted an opportunity to attend the most unique event in sport. The term ‘gifted’ simply translating into a Masters media pass and nothing else. Plane tickets, hotels and all the other peripheries were not included.
The gift was accepted in a heartbeat.
