A Tradition Like No Other

You know that giddy look kids start to get in the middle of December, because they think this is the year they finally get the pony they've been asking for from that lying prick, Santa?   That's pretty much what I've looked like for the last month whenever The Masters is mentioned.   In related news, you know the face you make when you step into the outhouse at a chili cook-off?   That's the face I've been making whenever I see another story about Tiger Woods that doesn't involve his abilities on the golf course.  

The lesson, of course, is that this could mark the weekend that we finally stop talking about Tiger the Trashy Whore Slayer and start talking about Tiger the Best Golfer in the World.  Outhouse face be damned! 

Honestly, I couldn't be happier.  As with years past, I am taking Thursday and Friday off to golf myself and then watch the best tournament in golf without interruption.    I am a bit concerned about how Tiger will play, seeing as he hasn't played competitively since November and spent much of that time in rehab and also talked about playing "not as hot, but not as exuberant."     This is probably most concerning.   Playing hot and/or exuberant is what made him the best.  If Tiger's not all fired up and intense he's just a skinny version of Vijay Singh.  Eff That. 

 Tiger's comeback aside, there really is nothing like The Masters.  Start with the most legendary and exclusive golf course on the planet and add in the calming theme music and steady call from Jim Nantz.  The sense that for four days you're slowly building toward another historic moment is undeniable.  Can't. F'n. Wait.