Masters Golf: 2009
Father-Son Third Trip
to Augusta for Great Tournament
|
1.
Travel from Memphis to Augusta, Ga. Via Atlanta |
4.
Link to Account of
2002 Masters Trip (scroll down) |
|
2,
At Augusta National Golf Club for Practice Round |
5.
Link to Account of 1994
Masters Trip (scroll down) |
|
3.
To Atlanta for Dinner with In-Laws, Flights Home |
|
Index To Photos / Page
Updated April 13, 2009 – Twenty-four photos taken by Casey Nolan and his
father, Lewis Nolan, at Augusta National Golf Club during the Second Practice
Round of the 2009 Masters Tournament are posted in Casey’s albums at the below
link:
Sign-in may be required if you should want to
purchase prints at a nominal cost. Email lewis_nolan@yahoo.com
if you cannot access.
By LEWIS NOLAN
Return to Nolan Travels Home Page
After
a fair amount of time spent over the last several days preparing for our third
outing to the fabled Masters Golf Tournament in Augusta, Ga., by me and our
terrific son, Casey Lewis Earle Nolan, my wife Betty drove me from our home in
the middle of Memphis to the Memphis International Airport. It was middle of
the afternoon on a Monday, April 6, 2009.
The
weather forecast for Augusta calls for a bit of a wintry day tomorrow, with
cloudy skies, brisk winds and a temperature ranging from 31 degrees at night to
54 degrees in the afternoon. However, since many of the about 300 azaleas planted
by Betty in our Mid-Memphis front and back yards are in their full glory, I
expect the Augusta golf course to be its usual magnificent self at this time of
year – something I think would be akin
to the front porch of heaven. The tall pine trees, lush green grasses on
rolling hills and blooming dogwood and redbud trees on both sides of the fairways
form a perfect backdrop to the occasional stands of multicolored azaleas that
make for such splendid television pictures.
My
1 hour and 20 minutes flight from Memphis to Atlanta was on Delta Airlines, the
surviving airline of a major merger with the airline that has had a major hub
in Memphis for many years, Northwest Airlines. The scheduled departure time was
3:45 p.m., a time coordinated with Casey to give him some face time at his real
estate development office with Clark Realty Capital at his home in Arlington,
VA.
Ever
since being awarded an all-expense trip to the full Masters Tournament in 1994
(see link in above chart for details about that fabulous experience), I had
been entering the big Masters lottery for tickets to the warm-up Practice
Rounds. I had won a pair of tickets back in 2002 and we had a great time.
Casey, an avid and skilled golfer, has joined me for every outing to the
Masters. A link to my account of the wonderful time at the Practice Round is
also in the above chart. If interested, the only cost to enter the annual
lottery for tickets to the Practice Rounds is that of a postage stamp; go to www.masters.com for an entry form. One only
pays for the tickets ($35 for all-day admission to Augusta National Golf Club
per person) in 2009 if notified in late August or September that the entry was
successful.
After
flying principally on Northwest for many years, I was pleased to see that the
changeover to the surviving Delta partner was well along at the Memphis Airport.
Two polite women wearing Delta uniforms in the terminal offered to help me to
the proper counter, where the old Northwest signs had already been replaced.
Since it was before the big rush in the afternoon and the terminal was mostly
deserted, I had only a minimal wait in line. I quickly checked one bag but
carried a small bag onto the smaller-than-usual, commuter plane for the flight
to Atlanta.
Just
in case, I had my U.S. Passport with me if needed for photo ID. But the Delta
desk agent and a reasonably polite TSA security officer were satisfied to see
my photo on an expired Tennessee Drivers License I carry with me in addition to
the current license without a picture. Tennessee extends the privilege to
senior citizens like me (age 65) of not having to undergo the hassle of
picture-taking at renewal time. Nonetheless, I was still annoyed at having to
remove my jacket and walking shoes to pass through an Airport metal detector,
which to me seems to be a time-consuming and very expensive hangover from the
terrorism attacks of the last decade.
I
was carrying a paperback book by a favorite author, the late Patrick O’Brian.
He is the writer of a fiction series involving the British Navy in the 1700s.
O’Brien was described in a New York Times book review as the top historic
fiction writer of the 20th Century, an assessment I agree with.
By
chance I happened to sit in an aisle seat on the airplane next to an
interesting, athletic-looking young man who was returning to San Diego after
visiting with his family in Memphis. His first name is Jordan and he is a
serving Captain commanding an infantry platoon in the U.S. Marine Corps. He has
already served a tour of duty in dangerous Iraq but shows no signs of any
wounds. My impression was that he is a fantastically dedicated and able Marine
officer that the U.S. is privileged to have on duty. Jordon grew up in Virginia
and went to George Mason University. He’s rather tall, rangy and muscular and
of course with the obligatory crew cut and close-shaven face. I think he’s
probably a bad cat in the boonies and any reasonable man would be glad to have
him on their side. But he was quite friendly and seemed to enjoy our
conversation.
I
told him about some of my long-ago days in “the Old Corps” when I was a lowly
corporal in the Marines who served for a time as the editor of the Quantico
Sentry, the base newspaper where he underwent some of his training. He seemed
mystified but interested when I told him how a few of the guys in the communal
barracks of the mid-1960s at Quantico, VA, actually bought wigs to wear when they went
bar-hopping in nearby Washington, DC in search of young chicks. Back in those
days, there was a lot of anti-draft and anti-war activity going on among people
in their teens and twenties and the military was decidedly unpopular in some
circles.
Jordan
also seemed interested in my recollections of when I was a part of the
Provisional Marine Brigade called into Washington, DC to help put down riots
that followed the assignation of Martin Luther King in 1968.
Like
me, Jordan hugely enjoys golf and we talked about some courses we’ve played.
For me, it was a joy to have a chance for a manly talk with such a dedicated
young Marine who is serving our country so well. I honor him and wish him well
in everything he does.
There
was a uniformed, sturdy-looking young woman who boarded the plane. She was
wearing the camouflage fatigues so familiar in airports these days, complete
with desert combat boots and a jaunty beret. She flashed me a big grin when I
said to her, “Bless you” as she passed by me in the airplane aisle. I must add
that it deeply bothers me to see so many in our country’s young generation
giving so much of themselves to serve in the military in a stupid war that I
think we were duped into entering.
The
Delta flight arrived in Atlanta on time. It took a ride in the underground
train and a walk of 10-to-15 minutes to get from my gate to the meeting spot
suggested by Casey, by a huge skeleton sculpture of a dinosaur in the Food
Court near the airport’s main security office. He arrived a few minutes later
and we made our way to the Budget Rental Car office. They upgraded my
reservation to a Toyota SUV, which had
plenty of room for our bags plus comfortable seats. We had to wait for a few
minutes for the red vehicle to be washed, a much quicker service than we
experienced seven years ago when Budget was completely out of cars for nearly
an hour due to the heavy Masters traffic.
All
in all, the costs of airfare, rental car and super-premium rate for a motel room were significant, but a fair price
to pay to see what I believe is the finest golf course in
the world at its very prettiest with play by some of the best golfers in
the world. Plus it just can’t get any better for a proud father to have his son
at his side for three days at one of the most magnificent sporting events in
the world.
Due
to the caution to generally avoid driving I had received several months earlier
from one of the neurosurgeons following my multiple surgeries and extended
hospitalization during recovery from a brain aneurysm in March, 2006, Casey
handled all the driving for us in the SUV. We made it from the Atlanta airport
to Interstate 20 East and on to Augusta in about 2 ½ hours, stopping only for quick
food and gas one time.
Neither
one of us were pleased with the motel, the Masters Inn Augusta Economy Motel on
busy Washington Road. The location was fine, just off I-20 and only three or
four miles from the golf club. It was the lowest priced lodging affiliated with
the tournament and the only one with availability on the day I received notice
by mail of winning lottery tickets (on Aug. 8, 2008). So I had booked the room
with a credit card even though I knew that my tickets wouldn’t arrive until
several months later when the event neared.
Trying
to look at it in the best possible way, the motel was far better than some of
the dismal “reviews” of the aged facility had suggested on an Internet ratings
site. But while it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be, we were paying a
premium price for a dumpy facility - $200 a day with a two-day minimum for
tired furnishings and threadbare towels. The included breakfast consisted of
tiny sweet rolls and muffins, coffee and small cans of juice. I’d guess the
motel’s normal rates were jacked up by a factor of at least four or five
because of the demand for accommodations during tournament week. But the room
did have two queen-size beds of recent vintage and a decent television with
cable service. However, the toilet in Room 203 was constantly running and ould not flush properly.
Casey
complained after the promised fix-it man failed to appear and obtained our
quick transfer to Room 207 in the same, satellite building of the motel about
10 p.m. The beds were reasonably comfortable, but neither one of us slept very
well.
Casey
– who works for a first-class real estate development company (Clark Realty
Capital) and routinely stays in first-class hotels when traveling around the
country on business – was especially critical of the Augusta economy motel. Our
room seemed to have only two temperatures – hot and cold, delivered by a window
AC-heater unit installed in the exterior wall. The next day, Casey made
arrangements through his beautiful and admirably efficient wife, Caroline, to
book a room at the upscale Downtown Atlanta Sheraton for our second night; he
paid for it with frequent traveler “points” earned with his Starwood Hotels credit
card.
Continue with Part 2, our visit
to fabulous golf course of Masters / Return to Nolan Travels Home Page