Inside the Masters Mystique

Masters weekend, how sweet the sound. True, the tournament started Thursday and many of us caught replay broadcasts the last two nights. But live coverage of the third round begins Saturday afternoon with a wide-open leaderboard and Tiger only barely in the hunt, and for my money, Sunday is the best sporting afternoon of the year. For a golfer, Masters weekend is Christmas morning, so long-awaited you can hardly believe it's finally here.

Phil Mickelson struggles during the first round Thursday

Several things about the Masters and its telecast never fail to rankle, starting with that hokey bird twittering behind CBS's sepia-tinted opening montage and ending with the soporific champion's interview in "historic Butler Cabin." (What's the deal with Butler Cabin? We're never told why it's so darn historic or even what it is exactly.) The producers at CBS turn the sentimentality meter up to 11 (out of 10) and keep it there all week, especially during the endless stream of tributes to past champions.

Still, beneath all the hushed, reverential clichés, nothing diminishes the mystical pull of the Masters. Since a lot of the publicity surrounding the tournament concerns things like the off-season personal lives of Augusta caddies and how many layers of sand and gravel lie beneath the resurfaced 16th green, it's easy to forget why we love it in the first place. So back to fundamentals. Here's my list:

Forget the groundhog. Those of us in Northern climes are just now grouchily emerging from our hibernative caves. Our yards are still mud pits. But Augusta's blazing azaleas confirm that the clubs are coming out of the garage.

Officially, this is week 14 on the PGA Tour/FedEx Cup schedule, and Tiger Woods has already won twice. But for the Tour's top players and the fans, all until now is prologue. The Masters and the majors are what count, and you can detect the new vibe in the step of every player. This year, it's even more pronounced, because the Players Championship, a quasi-major formerly held in March, is now taking place in May.

Jack Nicklaus celebrates a birdie in 1986

At no other major, and few tournaments, can so much ground be made up -- or lost -- so quickly as in the lengthening shadows at Augusta on Sunday. At least a couple of holes are set up each year so that decently struck balls collect near the pins. On the two par fives, the 13th and the 15th, players make eagle or find disaster in the waters in approximately equal numbers. The short par-three 12th, thanks to unpredictable wind gusts, is a roll of the dice, and the 16th is a lightning rod for drama -- this is where Mr. Woods, on his way to victory in 2005, chipped in from outer space for birdie, and Jack Nicklaus, riding the emotional high of the fans on a thrilling back-nine charge in 1975, putted in for birdie from an equally far-fetched distance. The 18th, lengthened and toughened, is a great, nervy finisher.

Hilly, gorgeous and requiring imagination to play well. Like many, I hate that Augusta National has felt compelled to add rough and trees in recent years to make the course more resistant to scoring. These changes limit the options for players and stifle the creativity that used to be so much fun to watch. But compared with the severe, straitjacketed courses of the U.S. Open and PGA, Augusta still has a lot of spunk, especially around the greens.

Because the Masters is the only major played at the same venue every year, we, the fans, know every inch of the course, even if we've never been there. When the club adds trees down the right side of No. 15, we're entitled to our opinion. Flyovers and a wealth of other graphics available on the Internet make it our virtual home course.

Nowhere in sports is the connection with the past, both immediate and distant, so palpable as at the Masters. The huge, revolving casts at other majors, filled by open-qualification processes, include freak low scorers, obscure international players and, at the PGA, everyday club pros. The Masters, by contrast, is an invitational. Its limited field includes the world's hottest, freshest talent, but always also many familiar faces. Former champions have permanent invitations to compete, and most do so into their 50s and 60s -- accompanied by the ghosts of all the ancients who have played in the event. Every fan, player and TV announcer knows the stories as well as they do their own family histories: This is the spot on No. 15 from which Gene Sarazen hit his four wood for the famous double eagle in 1935; this is how Ben Hogan always played No. 11 (favoring the right side); this is where Freddie Couples's ball came to rest on the brink of Rae's Creek at No. 12 in 1992.

Tiger Woods last year after teeing off on the 12th hole

Jack Nicklaus, the greatest golfer ever (until proven otherwise by Mr. Woods) and Arnold Palmer, the most charismatic, dominated the competition and spirit of the Masters for a quarter-century. They are still around. Mr. Palmer this year re-inaugurated the tradition of hitting a ceremonial first ball, and hopefully in the years ahead will be joined by Mr. Nicklaus. (Note: CBS will broadcast the restored and colorized original telecast of Mr. Palmer's 1960 Masters win Sunday afternoon; it includes footage of Mr. Nicklaus, still an amateur, playing in his second Masters. True fans should not miss it.)

Founded in 1931 by Bobby Jones not long after he quit competitive golf at the peak of his powers, the club is stuffy, rich, enigmatic and -- as a result of its late admission of blacks and continuing barring of women from membership -- controversial. Clearly, Augusta National isn't for everyone, but no club has more enduring mystique -- or a course that, say what you will, more golfers would more like to be invited to play.

OK, so I began by dissing the coverage, and I'll continue. The club insists that announcers call fans "patrons," fairway humps "mounds," and rough "the first cut." Gary McCord was banned for using the words "bikini waxed" in connection with the speed of the greens. But even so, in 52 years of continuous coverage, CBS has figured out how to milk the tournament for maximum drama. No broadcast of any sort looks better in high definition, and I'm happy to forgive Augusta National everything for not allowing more than four minutes of advertising per hour.

The Masters on TV: Round 3, 3:30-7 p.m. Saturday, CBS; Final Round, 2:30-7 p.m. Sunday, CBS.