RACHEL MARTIN, HOST:
Most of us note the coming of spring by a glance at the calendar, a gentle breeze perhaps, the shedding of overcoats. Our commentator Frank Deford says there's only one true marker of spring, and that is the arrival of the Masters Golf Tournament which opens tomorrow at the Augusta National Golf Club.
FRANK DEFORD, BYLINE: In days of yore, Opening Day of the baseball season was special, signifying that spring has come at last. Today, however, Opening Day sort of dribbles into existence. And the spiritual start of spring now belongs to the Masters Golf Tournament, where the azaleas and magnolias and dogwood bloom. Why, it's even been rumored that if those flowers dare look like they're going to bloom too soon, in March the groundskeepers pack them with ice to make sure that spring comes as God intended it, which this year is tomorrow.
By now, in fact, the Masters course is a federal treasure, to sports what Old Faithful is to the National Park Service. And once again, it is peaceful at Augusta National after some rather ugly stand-offs in recent years when the club balked at changing its all-white all-male membership tradition. But African-Americans and female Americans are on the club manifest now along with other golf Americans, and all is serene once again. Yes, some people do find the Masters too snooty. And the closing ceremony is so painfully precious that even the man who for years himself produced the coronation admitted it was, quote, "the worst thing in the world."
But I'm being picayune. The Masters is otherwise a thing of efficient beauty. Why, start with the name - the Masters - sounds almost too elegant to be American. And when it comes to names, there really are only two discrete pieces of official U.S. sports real estate which are familiarly known by title. One is a huge, ugly slab. But besides that Green Monster at Fenway Park, there is only Amen Corner on the back nine at Augusta, where treachery and beauty blend together as well as any James Bond villainess. Even the fans, who must be called patrons, are more polite and litter-conscious than at any other sporting venue.
The Masters is not greedy. You want to buy a Masters souvenir or logo shirt? Sure, let's go over to the nearest Ralph Lauren boutique. Oops, you can only purchase Masters memorabilia at the Masters this one week of the year. And most meaningful of all to you patrons watching at home, the tournament has fewer commercials than any other sports event. Well, yes, the Masters is too stylish to be an American icon. It is as out of character for Uncle Sam as McDonald's is for France. But hush now and stay behind the ropes. Spring begins tomorrow.
MARTIN: Yay, spring. That's commentator Frank Deford. He joins us the first Wednesday of every month.
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